Third Life
by Valzen
Summary: Some think being undead provides the chance of a second life. The Cullens believe it is only a poor imitation of living. This was becoming Hermione’s third life, and it seemed that she would live in a new world every time her own falls to pieces.
1. The Past

Third Life

Chapter one: The Past

Disclaimer: Only of the story so I'll make this clear, neither of these books belong to me.

XX

I've given a lot of thought to the idea of death. How I might die, how I would like to die, and how easy it would be for me to suddenly lose someone important to me. No, death has never been a stranger to me. Even growing up I was not immune to it's cold presence. I was never given the grace period most people fail to appreciate. I was never given the carefree childhood with an incomplete comprehension on the topic.

When I was eight my six year old sister, my best friend, died. In an attempt to save a stray ball she had been hit by a car under my father's supervision.

Death changes a family; it irrevocably and wholly changed ours. My father grew distant. He blamed himself and could hardly look at me. I think he believed he would inflict the same fate on me as he had on my sister. My mother grew protective; she hardly let me out of her sight. I understood why this was, but I had changed too. Like my father, I blamed myself for my sister's death. The responsibility of going after stray balls had always belonged to me, and had I not been being picked up from school both my mother and I would have been there. At the very least it would have been me who had died that October.

When I was eleven I met a boy named Harry Potter. As a baby he had escaped death but by doing so he had become a target. A big, red, flashing neon target for Voldemort and his twisted men. With the reality and understanding of death under my belt, I stood next to him. Year and year again I did what I could to keep him alive. By means of book work or dueling I provided what I could, even if it endangered my life. I had promised myself that I would never let a person close to me die, ever again as long as it was within my power to do so.

When I was fifteen I learned that death was not the only way you lose someone. In a divorce with anger and media coverage my parents finally separated. Like my mother, I was not sorry to see my father go. None of us had gotten over her death. None of us ever would. However, my father dwelled and he drank. I was only home for summers but the tension in the air would have been resilient to slicing hexes and I knew his departure would be the best thing for my mother.

When I was barely sixteen, not even an adult in the Wizarding World, death invaded my life for another personal strike. My caring, loving mother was the one hostage shot during a bank robbery. The police officer, in an attempt to comfort me, informed me that people tend to get desperate during the holiday season.

As a Christmas present to myself I got myself legally emancipated. My father was more than happy to be free of the responsibility of a daughter.

In the late months of my sixteenth year, the final battle hit. We had lost great men on the path to the battle, among them were the names of Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black, and Albus Dumbledore. Many more that I couldn't name died on that same path and hundreds more in the final confrontation. Added to those numbers were the several dozen names that I _had _known.

I had failed. People important to me had fallen, even with my attempts to spare them. The most important of those whom I failed were Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Worse still was that I could have saved them. I had been faced with a choice and along with Remus Lupin, decided on the right one. Their lives insured that Voldemort was defeated.

I would have given my life in the place of any of the others. This was not because I don't value my life. I do value my life because I'm not diluted enough to think that I wont bring something positive to the world. Furthermore, I refuse to die without it being for something I believe in. Like saving someone I love. Even with that confessed, I'm not particularly fond of playing the hero. Being the hero was Harry's job. Not mine; not me, who has blood stained hands. The reason I would give my life for any of them was because they matter more to me than myself. The simplest reason in the world.

The war is over now and in a month or so I will be turning seventeen, a legal adult in the Wizarding world. Being a war hero, the restrictions on my magic have long since been removed, which makes my seventeenth birthday of very little importance to me.

The Wizarding world is in a state of construction and rehabilitation and the surviving Order members are leading the effort. I'm not among them. The public appearances and the 'thank you's are something I tend to avoid theses days. I am grateful that we have rid the world of Voldemort, but the price was to high for me to truly appreciate the victory. Besides, being a murderer makes the idea of being a hero a shallow thought. Or a wishful fancy.

I've graduated early. The Headmistress, in collaboration with the thankful Ministry, allowed me to take my N.E.W.T level examinations early. Going back to Hogwarts was not an option. To be honest, I most likely would not have returned even if it meant forgoing my exams. Hogwarts without Harry and Ron is not Hogwarts. Besides, I am not strong enough to return to the questions without my better two thirds.

Remus thinks that I should escape to the muggle world. With the war being a priority, I have let my muggle education drop, placing me at a junior level. He thinks that I should take the opportunity to study at a muggle school and, being sixteen, the opportunity is open to me. _He _believes that it would be an opportunity to heal. _I_ think that it would be a good way to lick my wounds in private. We both agree that with my inheritance from my well-off mother I could spend time at a muggle high school and even go through collage before I would have to worry about financial issues.

The reading of the wills had been delayed until after the war, the first read belonged to Harry Potter. The vault, which had grown substantially after Sirius's passing, was not something that I wanted anything to do with. Therefore I was beyond relieved when a very large sum was left to the Weasley family. However, I underestimated the size of the vault and, apparently, an equally large sum was left for me.

I was angry at first; Harry had known that I did not need his money and that I wanted nothing to do with it. The gold was drenched in his blood, just like the money the ministry had given me, which I sent straight to Hogwarts.

A letter was what it took to change my mind.

Harry promised that he would do whatever he could to stay alive so that he could be there to make sure that I was always taken care of. He then wrote that if he wasn't there, then it was my responsibility to take the money. He said his spirit would know and that he would only feel like he was doing his job it I took it and did whatever I wanted. I was to never think of financial issues. He said that I had earned the right to live my life how ever I wished. He said that if I wanted to buy the largest island in the world and live in complete isolation, then he recommended investing in a good brand of sunscreen. Harry commented that he knew my library would be impressive. He told me that he only wanted to make sure that I was taken care of. He wrote that he needed me to know that no matter the outcome of the war, I was his sister and his angel. He signed with Xs and Os and all of his love.

We wired everything to muggle accounts and Remus helped me pack that night.

Death has always been a topic of thought for me. I've thought about my own death just as much as I have thought of my life. What I only briefly thought on, after a particularly nasty essay, was the third possibility: undead.

XX


	2. The Escape

Third Life

Chapter Two: Escape

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I scarcely cared where I was headed. As long as I was out of England. As long as I was moving, escaping my past or at least on a path to come to terms with everything that happened. Remus had gotten me my plane ticket. I had refused to travel via portkey, living as a muggle was a concept that grew on me as every minute passed. I was eager to leave but it was not until I was in the airport, waving goodbye to Remus that I realized how little my destination had mattered. I had yet to look at my ticket to find out where I was headed. With a quick scan of the ticket I realized my plane landed at the Bangor International Airport. Along with my ticket was directions to an apartment owned by Ted Tonks, located in the city the airport was named for. I tossed the paper with directions into a garbage can to my left. I would rent a hotel room for a few days and then set out to find my niche in the United States.

My placement in the first class section of travel was a welcome one. The company in the compartment were mostly people who enjoyed their privacy, the quite or were focused on work. I was again grateful to Remus, the last thing I wanted at the moment was a chatty neighbor.

The long flight was occupied in two fashions. I would have loved to spend the time sleeping but slumber was impossible for me to find when I was in a tin can thousands of miles in the air. The first method of entertainment was reading. I had taken several volumes of medical journals with me by means of my carry on bag. Medicine seemed like a good way to repent for my sins in case I ended up in judgment after my death. After reading four thick volumes front to back I abandoned that career choice and moved on to entertainment factor two. Studying strangers was always something that could hold my attention.

There was a woman three aisles forward and a seat to the left that was wearing a coral pink cardigan. The uncomfortable looking clothing reminded me of the horrors of my fifth year of schooling. When she turned to address the stewardess her face came into view and I winced. The women was wearing a crusted mask of makeup which was a shame. Unless her facial skin had the appearance of an adolescent who worked over a grease fryer, the amount of cosmetics was unnecessary. Her bone structure and the characteristics of her face were most likely very beautiful under the artificial layer. Furthermore, with a fifth of the makeup she currently wore she could enhance her features and look quite young for her age. She seemed to be friendly enough, the type of women who would bake cookies for an entire neighbor hood. Or the type of women that had a wind chime collection that she liked to share with visitors.

The stewardess was a bundle of fake smiles and I had to wonder what crushing news she had received. Perhaps a boyfriend pulled the coward card and didn't break up with her until she was leaving? Or worse, did she receive the horrid new involving the loss of a loved one. Her mascara was water proof but the puffy red was still noticeable to those who are observant. She looked my way and I gave her a sympathetic smile which seemed to startle her and she went to help someone far away from me.

The third person I studied made me realize I had spent entirely to many years in the same room with Lavender and Parvati. For the third time, I zeroed in on the makeup of the person I was observing. Hers was very well done but she had spent entirely to much time on it. From where I sat three seats to the left of her I could see her looking in the green compact mirror for the fourth time. Her honey blonde hair was pulled up into a neat bun with silver fashion chopsticks adding to the look. Her green blouse was low cut much to the enjoyment of the man besides her.

By the time that the flight attendant made the announcement that we would be landing in fifteen minutes I was studying my eighth person. He was dressed in a smart business suit and I wondered if he would ever leave his hotel for anything besides business meetings. He has a tan line on his wedding finger which was very pronounced in my opinion from a seat over. Either he was just recently divorced or he was cheating on his wife. Neither option renewed my dwindling hope of happy endings.

Getting out of the airport was nothing compared to the hassle getting in had proven to be. Within an hour of leaving the plane I was entering a taxi with a coffee in hand as the driver loaded my two suitcases into the trunk.

"Were to miss?" He asked in a Canadian accent and I wondered how far north in Maine we were. The weather was cold and I was particularly grateful for the long white pea coat that I was wearing.

"What hotels are in the area?" I didn't feel bad for my assumption that he would know. His demeanor and friendly smile indicated he was in the business for a while and hotels are a popular destination for people coming out of air ports.

"There is a Marriott a few blocks down." He offered but his question hung in the air waiting to see if I wanted a higher standard hotel or a cheaper one. I was after all only sixteen and traveling by myself.

"The Marriott is fine, thank you." I replied with a smile as I took my gloves off and made myself more comfortable. I had only put my gloves on as I was leaving the air port because I had not known how long it would take to hail a taxi. With luck I learned that they call the cabs for you and I was only in the crisp air for a few minutes.

As he had promised the hotel was only a few blocks away and I paid him the cab fare and a generous tip. The bell hops had taken my bags out already and with a brief smile as I exited the cab he was driving away.

The hotel was nearly booked due to a dentist convention which caused a dull ache at the remembrance of my mother. With fake smiles to the helpful man who was flirting with me the entire time he arranged my two night stay, I set off with the room key to one of the standard rooms on the fourth floor.

The room was nice, king bed, clean crisp linins, large window on the east wall and a decent sized bathroom. The room didn't matter to me, I set my suitcases against the wall with the dark wood dresser and the three foot mirror and headed to the bathroom. A long hot shower and bed sounded like the perfect start to my escape.


	3. The Death

Third Life

Chapter three:

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I pulled my rented Nissan into the abandoned five car parking area. Being so late in the season, not many people were coming out to the woods. I decided to take the half hour car ride out to the area regardless of the weather.

I had never been a big nature person before, or even a physically active person. My choice of activity was reading by the fire. I still love reading and I curl up by the fire every chance I get. However, in the past two years I have developed a strong and healthy love for the outdoors.

Becoming an animagus was what initiated the change. When I finally broke through the barriers deep inside of me in order to unlock the ability, some of my animal's instincts leaked into my human personality. There will always be something inside of me which craves freedom - an instinct that will only allow me to be indoors for so long. Unfortunately, that same something makes bamboo seem highly appetizing,

I pulled my red scarf closer around my neck and pulled on my gloves before I shut off the car. The keys came with me in the pocket of my white coat and my purse was stashed in the glove compartment before I exited the car. The lock clicked behind me as the door slid shut.

The path was easy to spot and was made even more noticeable by a two step staircase preceding the frozen dirt walkway. I traveled on the main path, large enough from two people to comfortably walk side by side, for about a half a mile before I veered off onto a smaller nearly unnoticeable path. I assumed that this was a path only used by a small few who were extremely familiar with the area. I walked onto it comfortably.

Even with the low temperatures, there was no snow on the ground. According to the women I ran into at the hotel, I had missed last week's mild snowfall. The area was not due for more snow until late next week.

The trees surrounding me were bare and reminded me a bit of myself at the moment. Eventually they would grow back their leaves and flourish but for now they were comfortable with their solemn state. Feeling connected to the tall life around me, I tenderly ran my hands along the barks as I walked.

I allowed myself to ignore the passing of time as I wandered . In my opinion, a person cannot truly appreciate the isolation of nature if they are aware of time. Therefore, I was not aware of how much time passed before the path opened to form a small clearing which lead to a rushing river. It was clear that this was the destination of the locals' path, and while I felt mildly like an intruder, I sat down at the base of a tree to watch the river. I would have to send my coat to the hotel's laundry tonight but I didn't mind. This was worth it.

I prefer cold to warmth. Warmth gives you a false sense of security and it is difficult to breathe. Cold weather keeps you alert and makes the air smell good. I like rain too. Mum would always tell me that rain was a symbol of a new start and I have always liked that idea.

I picked up a twig and started playing with it. I twirled it between my fingers like a mini baton and went back to watching the river. The water was high so it had probably rained here recently. The swirls and small rapids produced by the rushing water was captivating and I stared at them thinking of nothing until my senses heightened. Something was wrong.

I stood smoothly and pulled my wand out of my pocket. To the left of me I could hear some twigs snap and every enhanced reflex that Mad Eye had drilled into me shot to the surface of my being.

What happened next occurred in the course of a few short minutes. Everything that happened was taken in and processed quickly but I could not react properly.

The first thing that I could see was the outline of what must have been a man just beyond the tree line. I pointed my wand in that direction. The worse that could happen was that this person was a muggle hiker who might leave here thinking he had met a crazy person. Even with my wand pointed at whom I hoped was a stranger, I desperately tried to keep myself aware of what might strike from other directions. I became acutely aware that I could not have picked a better spot in the clearing to occupy; the tree behind me protected my vulnerable back as a partner should.

The second part of what occurred was registered by my ears. I heard mumbling, produced in a tone that could only be used for a chant. This person was magical and, worse, I was their target. Before my mind could understand what I was doing, my wand moved to throw up protective wards, but it was too late. The chanting had activated what I had always known rested within my chest, dormant pockets of dark magic just waiting to be released to kill me.I dropped to the ground in what I knew would be my slow, and very painful death.

Only two other things were noticed before I was in too much pain to notice anything. The sound of a departure, a sharp nearly unnoticeable shooting pain in my neck before the pain magnified.

Pain. Burning, searing, aching, excruciating pain.

Only once in my life have I ever endured a real level of torture, and that was under a collective Cruciatus curse performed by six separate wands. That residual defiance, cultivated during the war, made me refrain from screaming out in agony. It made me refrain from screaming out until my throat ran raw. I had to remind myself that this magnitude of pain would not drive me to insanity. I had suffered through pain such as this before and survived, and I would do it again.

My efforts left me in a continuous state of exhaustion.

When the pain lessened to only borderline intolerable levels, I searched for what information I could gather. I was in too far of a state of exhaustion to open my eyes. My hearing was a lost sense as well. The ringing, a byproduct of the pain, drowned out all other sound that might be present. I couldn't move my hands, but I was acutely aware of the fact that they rested on very high thread count sheets. I inhaled deeply though my nose, capturing the air I wished to process. This was unnecessary - holding the air within my lungs in such a manner - but it helped me concentrate. The air was moist and smelled like rain. I could smell fourteen individual types of trees but I had never been to the United States before and was unable to identify them by smell. As my mind reflexively started listing the trees I knew habited the Northeastern states, my body flooded with dread. I had never exhaled and it seemed that I no longer needed to.

Frantically, I searched for the feeling of pumping blood in my chest. I found no such feeling. Either hell was a mild fate or I was a vampire. I don't know which of the options I might prefer.


	4. The Awakening

Third Life (new title)

Chapter four: The awakening

"How are you feeling?" A soothing male voice asked. My eyes were still closed but I could conjure up a clear image of this man in my mind. I could only assume that I had opened my eyes at some point and had seen him, because the image in my mind was too real for me to think otherwise. I remembered his blonde hair and his golden eyes, which easily enhanced his already angelic features. I struggled to open my eyes, I managed, and my speculations were proven right. The man that I had seen behind my closed eyelids was the same man who was questioning me now.

"Been better," I hissed as the air went through my burning wind pipe, "been worse." I finished. My response startled the man I was watching through improved vision. I could understand why. Being turned is recorded as one of the worst pains imaginable; I concur.

There were two other people in the room. I had registered their presences before but had not dwelled on them, feeling no threat. Now I took the time to study them.

The man who could easily find a profession as a body builder looked worried. The emotion didn't fit his face. Like the angelic man, his features were perfect. A perfection that was not tainted by his mildly boyish face. Small creases on his cheeks hinted at dimples - a contradiction of personality from the worry he now wore. His curly locks were askew as if he had ran his hands through them repeatedly. I know from Harry that this was a nervous gesture. I examined this all in a fraction of a second.

The woman to his left was the most beautiful female I have ever seen. The type who might turn down a modeling career because the beauty of the other models would be beneath her. Her hair was golden, and again I wondered if I might have been forgiven for my many sins and sent to Heaven. I dismissed that thought quickly. I needed to come to terms with what I am; a creature with no heart beat. Her golden eyes met mine, the same golden eyes of the angelic one and still so very different from the black orbs belonging to the burly man.

"What is your name?" The blonde male asked. He reminded me of the doctor I had seen pre-Hogwarts. Only this man was much more beautiful.

"Hermione." I answered, cursing my long name as it hurt to speak.

The blonde women left quickly and with unspeakable grace. When she returned she was holding a glass filled with blood. I cringed. I have never been a fan of blood and this dislike had only grown in the past few years. However, this blood drink in front of me smelled delicious and I needed it like I needed that first glass of water after we had escaped Malfoy manor . I held my breath. I refused to drink blood. I refused to be a killer, again.

"Hermione," the doctor asked sounding worried. "does the smell repulse you?" I had confused him, but I didn't dare release my entrapped breath.

I whimpered trying to convey how the smell was the furthest thing from repulsive and THAT was the problem.

"Hermione," the repetition of my name was supposed to comfort me but it was sort of creepy, "aren't you thirsty?" This made me feel terrible. Both he and the burly man looked extremely concerned. The women seemed confused but continued to hold the glass out to me. Her outreached arm did not waver from it's stone like stance. I felt rude enough so I forced myself to nod once more. Then again, I wasn't the only rude one. I was, after all, the only one who had given my name.

"It's animal blood." A voice I had never heard before stated. The voice was confident that he had found the problem. He had, my resolve was broken and I was devouring the contents of the glass eagerly. I felt like I had never had a drop of liquid in my life. **Weak.** I decided, thinking of my broken resolve, but I allowed my glass to be switched out for another, and another.

"Better?" The doctor asked. I nodded. I was still thirsty but my throat wasn't burning. I assume that I am satisfied with just relieving my thirst and not my hunger because my body still has the majority of my human blood.

I sat, holding the empty glass gingerly in my hands. I refused to allow myself to shatter the object in what I knew would take no effort. I sat there, shy as I stared at the high quality glass with residual red tinting at it's bottom. No one was saying anything, this was only more pronounced by the persistent ringing in my ears.

"I'm Emmett." The burly one now identified as Emmett commented to break the tense atmosphere.

"Rosalie." The female added stiffly, in what I identified as an attempt to appease Emmett.

The pair of them seemed to be a set. It was evident by the way that they sat in such a casual intimacy. This pleased me. Apparently this women made Emmett happy.

Furthermore, his happiness mattered to me. I would assume that meant he was my sire.

Some books that I had read in my Sixth year explored the bonds formed between a sire and the sired. Most researchers believe that intense bonds are formed. These bonds varied from romantic and familial to indifference and hatred, but it was agreed that the bond was always intense. I could easily place the bond I shared with this technical stranger as that of close siblings.

"My name is Carlisle." He laid his hand on my shoulder as he spoke. The action was a fatherly one which I only knew from interactions with Mr. Weasley. I smiled weakly, still ashamed of my failure to resist satisfying my thirst.

"Edward Cullen." The newest arrival offered very politely and with a hint of a smile. I acknowledged his comment while watching as he moved further into the room to sit by Rosalie.

"I'm curious," Carlisle started, "what were you planning to do had that not been animal blood?"

With effort, I managed to smile a guilty smile. My words could easily offend the coven of vampires who have been nothing but kind to me. I was not foolish enough to concoct a lie. "I planned to starve myself." I answered only now, wondering if that was possible. Emmett cringed and looked down, making me feel horrible. I rushed to explain, "not because I find the idea of being a vampire a terrible fate. I mean, I know some wonderful werewolves," three, I commented in my mind as I continued my confession, "I've just killed enough people for a lifetime, and I refuse to do so again."

All of them reacted differently after processing my hastily spoken words.

Emmett looked relieved, no doubt grateful that I didn't resent him for turning me.

Carlisle appeared as if he was seeing himself in me. Perhaps he had a similar reaction after being turned? Maybe I wasn't too terribly abnormal to vampire standards. He also looked proud, and for some reason that made me feel a hell of lot better.

Rosalie sighed and I could practically hear her thoughts. Including phrases such as, 'of course he would turn a murderer' and 'I wonder if I still have to be nice'.

Edward on the other hand looked like he _understood_. I met his gaze and very clearly focused my thoughts. _"If you are in my head I am going to be very upset." _He didn't react, but I was still eyeing him warily as Carlisle started to speak.

"Perhaps, It would be better if I spoke to Hermione alone for a while." He had spoken with my evident distrust of Edward still in my mind. Rosalie and Edward obeyed what had never been a suggestion, but Emmett didn't move. I was grateful for this.

I shattered the silence, "You don't seem surprised that I'm not shocked by the existence of vampires." This was odd to me. More so than anything else my ringing thoughts could come up with. Like the secrets and existence of witchcraft, the reality of vampires had been skillfully scoffed into myth.

Carlisle smiled indulgently. I was reminded of Dumbledore. "After Emmett brought you here, Alice and Jasper - two more of our family - went up to where Emmett had found you. Alice located your wand." He motioned to where it sat on the bedside table and it worried me that I could not feel the pull it normally generated. "We weren't worried about if you knew vampires existed. We were worried about how you might react to becoming one yourself. The Wizarding world does not think generously of our kind."

Carlisle was telling the truth. In the world I once belonged to, vampires were more perceived to be more lowly than Werewolves. The magical world had pushed the Vampires that they had failed to kill out of society, proceeding to go through great lengths to keep all magical knowledge away from the creatures that should have been viewed as their brothers. The end result of the alienation process was that the two species knew very little about their counterparts.

What worried me was that there was no record, at least that I had gotten my hands on, that mentioned a witch or wizard being turned.

"We are not going to ask you to share anything with us. If you choose to tell us anything, we will be here to listen, but by no means are you obligated to do so." By this he meant both my knowledge of the magical community and also the circumstances of my death. "Now please, feel free to ask us anything that you would like."

For the first time, I didn't want to ask questions. I didn't want to solve the mystery. I just wanted to sleep. Figures that after sixteen years of forgoing sleep for study time, after sixteen years of taking the process for granted, I craved it now.

I sighed and asked my first question, "Where are we?"

"Forks, Washington."

I wanted to ask what Emmett had been doing in Maine. However, that would only lead to questions about why he had turned me. Those questions I would rather ask in private.

I took a deep breath and readied my next question.


	5. The List

The List

The room I awoke in was not the room that was labeled as my 'bedroom'. My bedroom had been one of the various human rooms that are scattered throughout the house. I had only been there because that room actually possessed a bed. I wouldn't need a bed any longer.

Emmett had volunteered to show me the way to my room after Carlisle had announced his departure for work.

Carlisle is a doctor.

His profession struck me as weird due to our attraction to blood. However, upon reflection, moments later, I found my initial assumption rather foolish. Carlisle had never even tasted human blood. From the start he had created an alternative way of life for himself and those whom would become his family. Hundreds of years and he has not faltered, so why should it surprise me that he could work so easily near the delicious, sticky substance that sustains us?

The room I had been brought to, as I had scolded my self due to my low expectations of Carlisle's self control, is beautiful. The size of the room easily rivals that of the dormitory that I had shared with two other girls, once upon a time. While the room appears as if it jumped out of the pages of a high end magazine, the design is completely impersonal.

The furthest wall was constructed completely of glass and overlooked a delicate stream. A set of brown leather furniture, a couch, a loveseat, and a high backed chair made up the seating area. Arranged around a low natural colored coffee table, the set created a comfortable location with perfect lighting. Apparently the family was catering to my reading habits, because the next thing my eyes took in was the mahogany bookshelf that covered the entire right hand wall.

Perhaps it was Edward's special gift which had alerted them to my tastes. I doubted that, because I find it difficult to believe that I was thinking about the massive amounts of time that I spend reading during my most recent brush with torture. Another possibility, and much more likely, was that someone had been sent to check out my hotel room and had located the collection of books that I had stored in my suitcase. Regardless of the information they have concerning me, the bookcase was just as impersonally decorated as the rest of the room.

The structure stocked some of the classics, but mostly insignificant bobbles like flower vases and generic pictures tastefully occupied the space until I could manage to fill it myself. A desk and large dresser were also present, with a mirror docked on top of the dresser, which I avoided looking in to. That was best left until I was alone. Glancing over at the two closed doors and the cream carpet which covered the entire floor, I looked back at Emmett. Like myself, he was still standing in the doorway we entered through.

"Thank you." The two words felt strange on my tongue. Now, only in the presence of my should-be brother, I felt like I should only be saying a more casual 'thanks'. I didn't, though. I know how I feel about the man who tore me from the jaws of death using his own. I know that I appreciate what he has done and I also know that my eyes, while clearer, only provide me with the vision of a sister looking at a brother. What I don't know is if he is in entirely the same situation. I assume so, but not knowing made me shy.

"It's nothing." He replied ruffling my hair and my doubts melted away. I had been foolish. "Rose and Alice went shopping for you, so you should have more clothes to chose from than should ever be necessary. At least until you can go shopping for yourself and pick out your own stuff." He knocked lightly on the closed door closest to where we stood, indicating which of the doors served as the entry way to my closet. I smiled lightly - that sounded dangerous.

"I'll be sure to tell them thank you." No matter how much I feared that opening that door would reveal that the pair of my new sisters were worse than my former roommates - and with money, no less - I would still say thank you. Either way I would be thankful for the effort and money they spent to make me feel welcome and provided for.

I also started to realize how grateful I was that I feel as comfortable as I did around Emmett. Now that all of my fears have been erased, I will acknowledge that even while I had felt shy around him, I still felt safe and unafraid. I don't scare easily, but this might have been one of those situations, had it not been for Emmett.

He continued to talk, "They were glad to. Any excuse to go shopping excites them." He was laughing at this trait his sister and lover shared. His laugh made it so easy to picture him giving Rosalie any extraneous indulgences she asked for. I have a feeling that my intuition isn't far off the mark, and I smiled. "So," He added morphing into a serious demeanor, "I guess you have some questions to ask me."

"I do." I confessed, "May I ask you later? Right now I'd really rather think alone for a while."

"Yeah, sure kid. Just call if you need anything, or if you change your mind." He was worried again. I really wanted to know if he was worried about me, or worried about what I might do. I know that as a newborn I will be closely monitored by the entire coven. They would try to keep close tabs on how I am adjusting and be ready to step in if I decide to go on a killing rampage. Lovely.

Maybe I am secretly a coward, but I wasn't ready to look in the mirror. I went over to the desk instead.

The desk is really nice, but old, and for a while I wondered if it had been bought new. With extreme care, I opened the largest of the desk draw and located a piece of paper. It was lined paper, and for the first time I longed for parchment. Normally, I longed for the muggle paper as I leaned over lengths of parchment.

My search continued for only moments more as I easily located the pens and pencils in a container on the desk's surface.

Using what I hoped were motions that lacked excessive strength, I handled the pencil over the yellow colored paper and proceeded to construct my trusty list,

To, I wrote, but the pencil crumbled as I closed the 'o'. I was thankful that I had not chosen to use the ballpoint pen. Do, I continued even more weakly. List.

1. Look in the mirror

2. Trans- (I lost my second pencil.) -fer accounts

3. Talk with Emmett

4. Try out magic

-with wand

-wandless

-occlumency

-animagus

5. Track down and steal my jerseys back

6. Meet the rest of the cov (I crossed out the beginning of that term) family

7. Buy more pencils (I added, looking at my pile of now six broken writing instruments)

8.

I never got a chance to finish, because I suddenly heard footsteps down the hallway. In this house, if footsteps could be heard, then they were meant to be heard. I placed my pencil down, breaking it in the process, as I heard a cheerful tapping on the door. I could smell blood.

"Come in." I called out, realizing too late that it was a voice the entire household would hear. In my defense, I was more than a bit distracted by the smell.

The woman who reacted to my call, and entered my room stands just under five feet. She moves like a ballerina, only with far more grace, and the way she bounces around reminds me of Luna. Her hair is pitch black, styled in a pixie cut, and her eyes are a familiar shade of gold.

"I'm Alice!" She introduced with more enthusiasm than a caffeinated child. Damn it, I am really going to miss coffee. My depression was left forgotten as I realized that she had greeted me with a peck on the cheek and was still offering me the glass of blood she had brought with her. This time I managed a quick thank you before I devoured the drink.

After my thirst was dulled, I noticed the second thing she was carrying - a box of pencils. I swallowed a scoff. _That's right, _I thought, _the one that can see into the future. _Only a second passed before I realized that my thoughts were most likely not private. I could only hope that he didn't find my comment to be too laced with dislike. After all, I did have several years of mocking the idea in my arsenal. From down stairs I heard a chuckle. I wanted to stick out my tongue.

"I'm sorry," I shook my head lightly to allow my attention to fall back onto my guest - sister, I corrected myself. "Please sit down. I'm assuming that you already know I'm Hermione."

She nodded with a brilliant smile and perched herself on the desk instead of heading to the couches. "Thank you for the pencils." I added as I watched her fill the container that had once been filled, and now held only ballpoint pens.

"You're very welcome. I'm really glad you're here!" She was enthusiastic, and I think she had seen me coming.

Instead of wondering if she had foreseen my death and my kind-of, sort-of rebirth, I watched her pull my list towards her. She read it, and instead of feeling like my privacy was being invaded, I felt like this was all very normal. I wondered if Mary would have often read over my things and I wanted to cry, but vampires can't cry.

Alice had chosen a pen out of the canister and started to edit,

To Do List

1. Look in the mirror - _You're very pretty._ She commented in writing, but there was something off in her facial expression when she wrote this. Soon, she was making more revisions.

She crossed out my second task. "I sent Jasper to take care of that for you. By the way, your Remus will draw the right conclusions."

3. Talk with Emmett - "He is looking forward to speaking with you." She informed me, and corrected the number to a two without making it seem like it had ever been a three.

4. Try out magic

-With wand

-Wandless - _Enhanced. _It worried me that she had skipped ahead and not commented on my ability with a wand. Then again, I don't think I am any more ready for that than the mirror. I don't need a crystal ball to know that I have a bad feeling about both of those endeavors.

-Occlumency - _Heightened._

-Animagus - Alice's eyes grew a bit distant and she turned to me, confused. "You can turn into a fox?"

"Red panda." I replied back with a proud grin, which was more a byproduct of the fact I would still be able to transform.

"Well, don't worry. We wont eat you." She smiled, displaying her perfect teeth - my parents would have been green with envy and glowing with pride. "Your smell won't change."

She crossed five out, too. "Edward left to go get them a few minutes ago. I'd like to know more about Potter and Weasley, if you are willing to talk about them sometime." I nodded, but felt blank about that particular request.

6. Meet the rest of the family - _Only two more to go. Don't worry, we all love you._ I expected a vocal comment, but I was glad she wrote it down. I knew I would look at it later when all of the stress and nervousness returned.

7. Buy more pencils - _**:-)**_ Like the symbol she drew, I was still smiling.

8. _Jasper will bring you his text books when he returns. _She wrote, as she told me that I would be entering into my junior year when I was ready for a crowded high school.

"Well, Rose and I are heading out shopping. We'll talk when I get home. You'll love me, I promise!" She kissed my cheek again, "I love you." She finished, and was gone.


	6. The Lion

The Lion

Alice pranced out of my room like a gazelle and I found myself missing her presence. The fact that I would love her in the near future didn't seem as odd now.

The worse thing about Alice's departure was the sirens' call that the mirror now sang. If I chose to, I could block out the desire to submit myself to the dangers of the reflective glass. However, the means to accomplish that would include divulging thoughts that I didn't care to address any more than I wished to look into the mirror. With the decision to heed to the wishes of the lesser of two evils, I stepped forward to face my changed appearance.

I've never really cared much for my looks. I'd brush my hair and wear clean clothes, but I have always been more occupied by books and learning. I've never looked in the mirror and been happy with my outward appearance, nor have I ever been truly disappointed with the way I look. I have always been just satisfied.

This image of a woman staring back at me really pissed me off.

My eyes, I'd admit, were alluring. The color was the same melted butterscotch present when our kind are properly fed. Most likely, I'd invest in colored contacts. My body was that of a model's, which was odd because I retained my same mediocre height and small chest. Either way, my body really didn't matter to me, I am just as satisfied with my body now as I had been when I was human. My now porcelain facial features were also quickly dismissed as unimportant.

What really angered me was my hair. Furthermore, that anger overwhelmed the sadness I knew was around somewhere as I remembered my lowly defined past life.

Most psychiatrists would probably believe that a person teased as a child would likely grow to resent the focus of the harassment. In this case, my hair. But, I have never resented my hair. I have been teased for a variety of reasons in my past and, yes, I did willingly change my teeth when given the chance. However, I did not resent my teeth, I was simply given an opportunity to use a quick fix. At the time, I feared a future of braces. Fear and resentment are not the same thing. After all, I have been teased because of my intelligence as well and if I certainly didn't resent my knowledge then, so why should I resent my hair?

To be completely fair I had never been particularly fond of my hair. I'll even admit that I'd consciously made the effort to leave it long, because instead of being bushy and frizzy it would be bushy and less frizzy.

My last year of Hogwarts was when my opinion of my hair changed. That was the year that I stopped viewing my hair as an annoyance. Fred and George had come to visit us remaining Gryffindors after a particularly celebrated match. We had beaten Slytherin, again. Much like the various other times they had 'stopped by', the pranks followed in bulk.

As the only person with any semblance of control over the pair, besides Molly, I had never been the target of many of their products. This night I had become a test subject.

After eating a biscuit, which I had at one point planned to compliment the house elves on, the product had its desired effect. What I had eaten made me make a partial transformation into an animal. That animal had been a lion and my hair had become my mane.

As a houseful of proud lions, this had been as symbolic as it had been amusing. With Fred Weasley's formal dubbing, my hair was now fondly referred to as my mane. On the brink of the war, that final surge of courage and the display of confidence from them meant a great deal to me.

Therefore, it bloody well pissed me off that whatever foreign entity or genetic mutation that took hold of my appearance robbed me of my mane. More than that, it hurt that my favored attribute was dismissed and thrown away as my body was being morphed into ideal standards.

I childishly threw the remnants of a broken pencil at the mirror as a protest, but soon I noticed my mistake as the surface shattered.

Within a heartbeat, not that I had one of those anymore, two vampires were in the room with me.

"Breaking things already, kid?" Emmett was laughing as he surveyed the damage and the

shards that covered floor.

I ignored him, "I am so sorry. I really didn't mean to do this." I apologized profusely and repeatedly to the woman that I assumed was Esme. I'm invited into their home and I break her things - just bloody wonderful.

"Don't worry about anything, I think each of us have broken our share of mirrors." Emmett slid out the door, and I guess he was hoping that Esme and I would bond. I promised myself that I would make an effort.

I was horrified as she knelt down to deal with the mess. "Oh, no, you really don't need to do that! Please, allow me."

As it turned out we both ended up cleaning, shoving the glass into the bag that Emmett had placed at the door. The process took very little time due to not having to worry about slicing our hands open. Odd, but a silver lining all the same.

"I really am sorry." I offered again as we finished.

"That's quite alright." She responded, brushing her soft brown hair behind her shoulder.

She really was as beautiful as the rest of them. I refused to throw myself into the category of them as I pondered appearances. I was still a mile more than miffed at my loss.

Focusing to regain my previous train of thought, I continued my evaluation. She was young, only five or six physical years older than I. She has a motherly air to her and it was obvious that she cherishes her parental role. Like Molly Weasley, she seemed open to any expansion of her family.

Esme began to stand, which reminded me that we were still sitting on the floor. The action also scared me. Ever since I figured out what I have been turned into, I've only craved a few private moments to think. Now, as she is willing to offer me these moments of isolation, I feel as if I am about to be abandoned.

My arm strikes out and captures her wrist as she reaches her full standing height.

"Esme, will you stay?" I pleaded, feeling ridiculously childish. The feeling caused flashes of waking up from nightmares and crawling into my mother's queen sized bed. Every morning after these occurrences, I would wake up to the smell of chocolate chip pancakes.

Esme smiled at me and sat on the floor again. Neither of us made a move to go sit on the couches, which were only a dozen feet away. To me, this seemed like a more natural bonding spot.

"Of course, Hermione." I smiled widely at her. Happy that she was staying, but more so that we had never introduced ourselves. A mother does not introduce herself to her child and neither does that child introduce herself to that mother.


	7. The Volt

Third Life

Chapter Seven: The Volt

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

"You should write down whichever memories you wish to remember." Esme advised. It had been several hours since I had pleaded with her to stay.

I had never doubted my decision to initiated a prolonged interaction with her, instead I found myself extremely grateful that I had. Her voice was calming as she explained what I was to expect after becoming a vampire. I also found myself much more comfortable with this new life style that I had been deposited into. Esme spoke of the family in adoring tones, and listened as I told her my own stories.

"It is a depressing thought, but the human memories fade rather quickly. Sure, we will remember the gist of our lives and the misfortunes leading up to our rebirths, but most of what we recall are the bare facts we spoke of just after we were turned." She continued, and I could detect a nearly wistful tone in her voice. She regretted not knowing more of her own story.

"Like a diary?" I questioned with a bitter taste lacing the third word. Regardless, the disliked word was a reminder that I still could recall my past. I wasn't rude enough to ask if she had wrote down her own memories. For one, she had been born in a different time. Furthermore, from what Carlisle had explained, they all remembered very little of their human years. If anything, her suggestion was born from her own regret.

"Personally, I'd write them as a book. A diary is better for recording events when emotions are still freshly tied to the situation. But yes, I do recommend diaries as well. Decades do tend to accumulate rather quickly. Alice is most fond of the practice. She has several hundred such volumes."

I thanked Esme for inviting me into her home, for what must have been the third time. I was told to "shush", and that she didn't, "want to hear another word on the matter." and that this was, "your home now as much as it is mine." I don't know if I can truly say that I believe that yet, but I will admit that I liked the idea.

We were lying down in silence, sans the sound of ringing in my ears. The silence was spent studying the ceiling and thinking about everything that had been said.

"It's been a while since I've actually felt as if I had a home." I confessed. Years I had waited for the time in which I could admit this fact, and at last it had come.

Esme reacted by holding my hand, but otherwise she allowed me to express what I needed to naturally, without the added variable of her own reactions.

"After my sister's death, viewing that place as home became difficult. Then, when my parents divorced, I got two clear new labels: my mother's house and my father's place." I took a deep breath for habitual reasons, and took in the fresh air that had been brought in by a newly opened door or window. "I was slightly jealous of Harry when we were younger for the fact that he could so easily see the school as home. I could never do that - it felt much to like a betrayal."

"As Hallmarked as this may sound, home truly is where your heart lies, Hermione." I loved how Esme spoke my name. It sounded just like its own form of endearment. "I can't assume that you care deeply for us now, but I can't imagine that it will take much time for us all to feel the bonds of family. What I can tell you is that you can have more than one home, and that no one that loved you will ever feel betrayed by you feeling at home elsewhere."

"Maybe." I wanted to think about it for awhile, but Esme stood. I could only conclude that it was due to the cars that I could hear approaching the house.

"Alice and Rosalie are back. We should meet them in the garage."

As I followed Esme towards the garage, I made careful practice of remembering the way back to my room. Not for the first time was I grateful for this honed skill: living at Hogwarts for so many years had given me a great sense of direction.

I realized two things in the few short minutes that it took us to reach the garage. One, my room is located on the third floor. Two, the Cullens have a thing for NICE expensive cars.

I'm not a car person. I never have been, and living in a world with different modes of transportation than the automobile, I fit right it. I can drive perfectly fine; after all, I had refused to abandon my muggle roots. However, it would suffice to say that I would not be able to identify much about the various cars in the extremely large and well kept garage.

The most expensive looking car was the sleek black one that was parked nearest to where we stood. Next to the wall stood two motorcycles, and I toyed with the idea of learning how to ride as a tribute to the late Sirius Black. Furthest from us was a monstrous jeep, and I knew that that car was Emmett's baby.

The doors to the garage started opening, and Rosalie drove into the garage in the most ostentatious red convertible that I had ever seen, ever. Coming in behind her was a darkish silver car that Alice was driving.

"Hello Hermione!" Alice greeted as she bounced out of her car, and gave me what I have concluded to be the customary kiss on the cheek. Esme got one too.

"Hello Alice, Rosalie." I greeted back with a genuine smile. Speaking with Esme for the past few hours had put me into a fantastic mood. Well, as fantastic as I could reach at this point in time.

"What do you think?" Rosalie questioned, and I blinked back, confused. I felt like an owl with an incorrect postal address.

"Of the car, silly." Alice provided, still grinning. "Rose wanted to get you the Lamborghini Murcielago GT but I insisted that the Volt was the only decent car that you wouldn't demand we return." I could only imagine what her idea of a 'decent car' was, because the Volt was one nice car. I at least assumed that the car I was looking at was the Volt, because there was no way in hell that I would ever want to drive that red thing.

"I really appreciate the gesture, but you don't need to buy me a car." I spoke, hoping that they would bring it back. It was a nice car, but I would feel better paying for my own when my accounts were again in my possession.

"Hermione I _know _you won't make us return your welcome-to-the-family present." Alice was making a puppy dog face. Sirius had nothing on her. Alice really was brilliant at using the guilt factor to get her way. She would have made a decent Slytherin.

"Alright," I sighed. But really, where would I be going that would require a car? "It is a nice car." I admitted, and the three women in my company grinned at me. I felt as if I had stepped into something that I didn't understand, which isn't normal for me.

Esme opened the driver's door to let me sit down and view the interior. There were three main colors on the pallet, beige being the dominate color, with a cream gray and a rustic red. The car was very open and smelled like that new car scent, but what made me laugh was the mirror which graced the back seat. Alice had known.


	8. The Name

The Name

I was seated in Emmett's monster-sized jeep as we traveled through Canada at frightening speeds. The purpose of the speed? I have no idea. What vampire needs to rush? The purpose of this road trip? For Emmett to take me out on my first hunting trip.

Since Emmett had been heading to Eastern Canada to hunt when he had found me, it had been decided that we would stick to that plan. The plan I had no problems with, but the speed I could do without.

The day before, I had gotten my chance to ask Emmett why he had been in Maine on the day of my death. He actually hadn't been planning on going to Maine at all. He had been set on reaching a specific section of Canada - the reported location of a surplus of bears. However, I had been close enough to the border for him to be suspicious of the odd vibes he felt. Odd vibes which had lead him to me.

I had also been correct in assuming that the previous question had lead way to bigger questions - questions like why.

To be honest, I really couldn't think of any plausible reason as to why he had turned me. Sure, I had theories, but I found those theories to be completely improbable. For example, I really couldn't imagine Emmett being motivated by some long forgotten sob story. I also didn't believe that this was one of those 'compelled to do so' situations.

I was right on both accounts. His reason had been simple, but still very odd. Apparently, my blood was the only blood Emmett had ever come across that held no allure to him. That was the reason he turned me; because he didn't crave my blood. Emmett had continued to tell me that the blood on my arm - a byproduct of a not-so-careful Emmett carrying me in the woods - had been appetizing to Alice.

Alice… my thoughts shifted to the tiny vampire who enjoys showering me with affection and material things. The woman who loves using me as her personal Barbie doll perhaps a bit too often. Oh, how nice it had been to live in a world without that popular, pink children's toy.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" Emmett asked, and I really wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road. I didn't, because he was a good driver and he has been more than wonderful to me in the past sixty-four hours that I have known him.

"I feel guilty." I admitted. "Everyone has done so much for me."

"We want to." He replied, chuckling as his fingers drummed the steering wheel. "Besides, when you don't sleep it is nice to come by things to do."

I scoffed lightly, "Em, Rosalie and Alice have purchased me a car and a giant mass of clothes. There are so many that it might as well double as a possible boggart." And it really was frightening. The closet was nearly the size of the room I had at school, and I have taken to grabbing the first thing I see and slamming the door shut. "Edward went all the way to Maine just to get my jerseys. Jasper has made me a whole new identity and rewired all my accounts. Carlisle has set the ground work to introduce me here. Esme has listened to everything I've had to say and has given me amazing advice. You - you have been more than I could ever ask for. Not only have you literally given me a second chance, but you have made the transition a better experience than anything I could hope for." I started to breathe only to get the air I needed to continue my rant. I didn't manage to continue. Emmett cut me off.

"How _do_ you like your new identity, Miss Bishop?" He teased. I've been told the stories of their curious identities, and I have seen the wall of graduation caps.

"Hermione Jane Bishop, the god daughter of Carlisle Cullen." I expanded. "It will take some getting used to." And it would, although less so than another name would. Bishop was my mother's maiden name, which she had taken back after her divorce. All in all it was a name that I would easily respond to.

I wanted to tap my fingers on the window, which was unnatural for a vampire to crave, but never have I been normal. I fought the tapping urge, afraid that I would break the window as I had so many other objects. I rolled down the window instead. The pleasure of the wind, caused by our illegal speeding along the highway, was a welcome one. Maybe high speeds weren't so terribly bad.

I could smell the scent that I have begun to associate with humans with a stronger sense than when the window acted as a barrier. I have been able to smell it since we turned off of the private road the Cullen residence resides on. The smell is not overwhelming; I'd compare it to smelling cookies baking on another floor.

True to Carlisle's words, Emmett has yet to ask me anything personal. On my part, I avoided bringing such things up, even if I had elected to bare my soul to Esme. Therefore, I surprised myself as I suddenly blurted out a starting point to said conversation. "How much do you know about the recent history of the magical world?" It was only after I spoke those words that I realized I wanted to talk about my life in the magical world while the memories still mean something to me. Because very quickly my memories were separating themselves from my emotions and soon my past would be nothing more than a well read story.

He was looking at me again, but he attempted to keep his voice light so I stopped myself from telling him to watch the road. "I know there was some Vort guy a few decades back who acted like Hitler."

"Lord Voldemort," I corrected, looking at myself through the reflection of the jeep's side mirror. Some part of my mind realized that Emmett might actually remember Hitler's reign. "He attempted to rid the Magical community of Muggleborns, and would then move on to killing off all of the Muggles. He had a lot of power, and for a while most people were thinking that he would win the war. Then he heard part of a prophecy and showed up at the Potter's household." Emmett had become more attentive at the name Potter, which lead me to believe that he had seen the jerseys that Edward had collected for me. "Voldemort murdered Lily and James Potter, but something happened when he tried to kill their son. Magic evoked by his Mum caused the curse to backfire and the Wizarding World learned that Lord Voldemort had been defeated by a one year old child - Harry Potter, the boy who lived."

I rolled up my window again. This was easily my fifth time doing so, but Emmett didn't seem to mind. I continued, "Harry Potter grew up in his aunt and uncle's house knowing nothing about the Wizarding World. He grew up as a muggle, terrorized by his cousin and neglected by his guardians. When his acceptance letter for Hogwarts, our magic school, came it was rightly addressed to Harry Potter, the cupboard under the stairs."

I remember that cupboard well. Even if my memories are not up to par with what I am used to, that experience isn't something that I am likely to forget. I had gone to gather Harry at some point, and found the small nook which he had spent the bulk of his childhood occupying. I was mad. Magic sparks flew off of me madly, and I made sure his relatives knew it. By the time that we left, there was no cupboard under the stairs left for _anyone_ to inhabit.

"On the train to the school for his very first time, he met a boy named Ron Weasley and a girl named Hermione Granger. With the boy he made fast friends, but the pair wouldn't become friends with the girl until they rescued her from a troll in the girls loo on Halloween night. After that they were attached to each other and became the school's 'Golden Trio'. Famous Harry Potter, the boy who lived; Ronald Weasley the sixth of seven Weasley children and the faithful side kick; Completed by Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of her age and the brain of the Golden Trio."

The window went back down. "We were always getting in to some type of trouble. Getting ourselves into the mists of things that many adults would have run from. Our first year we faced trials to try to prevent the theft of a stone that could grant immortality. In second year, I was petrified by a creature that was released to kill the muggleborns of the school. But, I had figured out what it was, and the boys used that information to go on to face the beast, saving Ron's sister in the process. Third year, Harry and I saved an innocent animal and his wrongly convicted godfather by illegally manipulating time. Fourth year there was this stupid tournament that Harry was forced to compete in. The stupid thing had gotten a slew of wizards killed in the past and this year was no different. We lost our school mate, Cedric Digorry. The magic we had to learn, or rather I learned, in order to teach Harry to keep him alive, was way above our level. Voldemort came back that year. Fifth year, the ministry was trying to discredit Harry and our headmaster and in doing so invaded our school. The woman they sent was horrid, and used barbaric detention methods. We rebelled and formed a group to teach ourselves defense because she sure wasn't doing it. Later, we ended up flying to the ministry because Harry was sure his godfather was captured. It was a trap. We ended up in a battle, and that same godfather died. Sixth year things got more intense. Since Voldemort's return was acknowledged, he started a series of random attacks. We were locked away at the school, forced to hear about the death and the destruction. All we could do was prepare ourselves. We lost our Headmaster that year. Draco Malfoy, a student in our year, who we had clashed with during our entire time at Hogwarts, killed him to save his family. We had to leave the school after his death, for fear of them taking down the whole school to get to us. We spent the rest of the year tracking down these objects that continued portions of Voldemort's soul in them. He couldn't be killed until all seven of these objects were destroyed. After that, it was battle after battle, until _the _battle - the final battle." He didn't ask me about the final battle, and I knew that he was well aware that everything I had told him was only a glossed over version of the events. I had planned on telling him more about the end of things. I couldn't though. Not yet. Some things are still too hard to vocalize.


	9. The Hunt

The Hunt

By the time we pulled to a stop, we were deep into Canada with no signs of human inhabitants in any direction. The only civilization I knew of was that small town that we had stopped in three hours ago to get gas.

It was very convenient that the gas station had been a self-service, because Emmett hadn't let any of the employees come anywhere near his car. His growls gave away that this was more because I was in the car than the fact he didn't want them near his Jeep. Even so, his growls and glares, even his impressive and intimidating build hadn't stopped their stares.

My 'camping' partner for this trip eagerly exited the vehicle and watched as I too got out. My hesitation was caused for a very obscure reason. I wasn't worried about the actual hunting, and I wasn't grossed out by the idea of killing animals and drinking their blood. No, the problem was that I wasn't cold.

The clothes I was wearing really wouldn't do much for an average person. Light designer jeans, a green t-shirt with a logo stating 'pro veggie', slender hiking boots and a brown jacket made of a light material. Scarcely two weeks earlier, I had been near this area, only a little further south. During which time I was in the midst of the changing seasons and I had even heard tell of snowfall in some areas. I had been cold, wearing layers and contemplating heating spells. Now, here, I wasn't cold and I felt like I should be. The feeling was slightly irking.

"You okay, kid?" Emmett asked, his enthusiasm looked like it might start fading.

"Yes," I answered. Pushing my thoughts aside, I gave him an honest smile. "I think that the girls are trying to make me an eco friendly nut. First the car, now the clothing; I think that I own the entire 'go green' fashion line."

My brother laughed. The laughter that came out of his mouth was full and booming. The weirdness I was feeling about the temperature evaporated, and with renewed excitement, I followed Emmett into the trees.

Running was exhilarating. It was freedom and control rolled into an adrenaline high. For the first time, I realized what must have pulled the others to love flying.

I hadn't gotten the chance to run until now. Or at least, I hadn't taken the chance. Carlisle had recommended that I head off for a run with Edward. At the time, I hadn't wanted a babysitter. But now I regretted that decision. I had found a new love.

I listened as we ran. It was as if our prey knew that the hunters were near and quieted themselves.

I love forests, nature and everything that comes with it. I adore twisted vines, ruff bark, springy underbrush and thick canopies. I even love the woods in winter. I appreciate and admire the strong skeletons of the ancient trees. I look forward to the crisp frost, and watching the willowing bare branches sway in the wind.

My favorite part of nature is how she nurtures without being asked. She provides shelter and homes for the creatures whom inhabit her domain. She offers nourishment to feed those same mouths, and she is always there for her children.

Alternately, I really hate gardens. I guess that I am okay with those hard core gardeners who spend the time to work diligently without the assistance of the natural mother. The ones who nurture just as much as she, or earnestly try to live up to her standards. The amateurs and the lazy anger me. They ask for what she has offered, knowing that she will give. They seek to control her for their own benefit and it is disgusting.

That's what I plan to do with a fair chunk of my inheritance. I'm going to invest heavily in the preservation of our rain forests. One day, or perhaps many days in my timeless existence, I'll travel there and bask in her wild glory.

"Listen." Emmett ordered as we both stopped in a clearing. We had run for nearly an hour, sometimes circling and doubling back. We had probably covered the same amount of ground that we had traveled in the car.

I tried to listen, or rather hear what it was that he wanted me to hear. I was searching fore whatever it have been that I hadn't been hearing before. I really did try, but the ringing in my ears made it impossible for me to accomplish, I couldn't hear any sign of life. There was a river to the west, but that was all that I could determine.

"I hear a stream, but besides that I don't hear anything." He raised an eyebrow, and it occurred to me that I hadn't mentioned the ringing to anyone. "I have heard a ringing sound since my turning." I elaborated, still occupied by trying to listen.

Emmett shrugged. He would happily lead this hunt to our prey. In some twisted way that I would rather have not noticed, I was glad to be the hunter and not the hunted as I had been many times in the past.

We didn't need to travel far for Emmett to locate the creature that would be my first prey - a bear, apparently. I have been told that if a creature catches my interest during a hunt, that it would be best to claim my prey. However, if I have any control in the matter, I am to go after an animal that is overpopulated in the area.

It was hard to drop my control. As connected and natural as I felt in the area and surroundings, letting go of my control is not something in my nature. As a witch, I fought for control of my magic. As a woman, I claimed control of my mind. As a person who practices the art of Occlumency, I learned to control my emotions. As a vampire, I nearly begged for control of my blood lust, and forced myself to met the expectations of my fellow vampires. To let all that control go was nearly painful.

As I succeeded, I learned that it was worth it. I felt more like myself than I have ever felt. At the same time, a part of my civil mind was aware of my actions. Full release of my instincts was not possible. I was disappointed.

My prey was pure black. The fur was cared for, and marked my prey as a superior of his species. My baser instincts craved only the best. The prey's size was impressive, his strong limbs ready for a fight. No, my prey did not consider himself prey, but instead a warrior. We would fight, and I would win.

My movements were fluid, strong, instinctual. I pounced, avoiding my prey's sad attempts to cause me damage as I battered him with my own form of abuse. I was too strong. I pounded my prey to the brink of death before I decided that I had played with it enough. A shame, but his warm blood was still pulsing. I drank.

Emmett had left to find his own prey when my own had gone down. He would not be foolish enough to disable his prey before he played. Again, I was disappointed at myself, and my hasty actions.

Blood tastes like blood. I never liked blood before, but my instincts now cried in ecstasy at the taste. The liquid was thick, warm, and sticky, and the taste of iron elevated the taste above that a favored food. I drank, gulped, sucked, and savored the drink.

This was nothing compared to the stagnant blood that I had been living on before this point. For one brief moment - a moment of weakness in my uncontrolled state - I wondered what the taste of human blood might be.

My instinct-driven mind still whimpered in pleasure as more blood ran down my throat.

The bear ran dry and I left. I wanted another prey.


	10. The Magic

The Magic

Jasper had helped me locate a bed frame in the attic, and Emmett had gone out to get me a mattress. The bed was not necessary, seeing as I don't sleep any longer. However, I wanted the addition anyway. After years of sharing a room with two privacy invading female roommates, my bed had become my only place of privacy, and also my study location of choice.

Like many times before, I was sitting Indian style on the bed with text books spread around me. These books belonged to Emmett, and he had never brought them to the school. Emmett had laughed and told me that it upset his teachers, but they had given up reprimanding him for it when they couldn't find a question in the curriculum that he didn't have the ability to answer. The story sounded familiar, but I had always brought my books anyway. I couldn't imagine what would have happened if I had ever turned up in Potions without my assigned text.

I had spent some time with the books he had given me - the same ones laid out around me. The material was disappointingly easy, which is why I wasn't currently looking at any of the books.

I held my wand loosely in my right hand, acutely aware of the feel of the grain. I stared at the vine pattern. Despite the fact that my magic still allowed me to turn into my animagus form, I had low expectations for my next endeavor.

Well, time to summon the Gryffindor courage that I apparently have in abundance. At least, that is what they once said about me.

My grip wanted to tighten, but I kept it loose. Having a tight grip sometimes alters the wand movement, and I felt that if I could make my movements perfect enough, if my magic flow was just right, then maybe, just maybe this might work.

I moved my wand in a steady and familiar sequence, "_Accio_". Everything I had was focused on that pink tinted glass vase. A vase Esme had placed on my bookshelf before we had even spoken a word to each other.

The spell hadn't worked. The results didn't even yield a movement as had been the case the first time I had tried the spell. I had been a fourth year then.

I tried again, again, again, and again. Nothing. I switched spells, "_Wingardium leviosa_", and still nothing. Again I tried. Four times led to eight times, then nine times - all to no avail.

With sharp, frustrated movements, I flung my wand at a bare portion of the wall. I admired the product of my action. The wand had cleanly pierced the plaster of the wall, but remained unharmed. I regretted the unbreakable charms that George and I had created during the war for the wands of Order members.

That one act of violence wasn't enough. I wanted to punch something. The only problem is that I am now too strong to indulge my violent tendencies.

I thought about sparring. Going up against Emmett would help me let off some steam, but Esme was home. I dismissed that wonderful, workable plan.

Instead, I tried what my mum used to do to calm down. I lightly clutched the pendent of the necklace I wear daily, and breathed. I breathed deep, unnecessary breaths with my eyes shut. After a dozen or so minutes, it seemed as if the process had worked.

Now in a relaxed state, I unclasped the necklace and ran the pads of my fingers over its surface as I took in the familiar design. I inherited the piece when my mother had died. She had gotten it to wear on her wedding day and had worn it everyday after.

The jewelry was elegant and just detailed enough to break out of being classified as simple, just as my mother had been. The cross was made of a solid silver and was accented by pearls. I have developed a certain fondness for pearls since I received the necklace. That was after the police had released it from evidence. The form of the cross was created by looping metal and a darker circle of silver was set behind the upper portion of the cross. The intersection of the cross held the biggest pearl, smaller pearls lined the four extensions and circle. I appreciated that the necklace looked delicate but still remained strong. The idea of a misleading delicacy hiding a strength made me feel connected to my mother's cross.

I felt it again and the anger that I had temporarily abandoned in order to think of my mother and the jewelry flared again. A deep, raw growl escaped my throat. I ignored my anger, I compartmentalized and had shoved that emotion under some childhood memories that I wouldn't be thinking of anytime soon. I prepared for my next step, but the feeling was already gone. I continued anyway, with one brief thought of Severus Snape, as all of my decent mind shields snapped into place.

Now I could think. This morning, the ringing I had been suffering through abruptly stopped. I had been waiting for it to do so. After our hunt, Emmett had made me talk to Carlisle. Both he and Alice had dealt with the pesky ringing. Carlisle had endured it for four days, and Alice racked up a week and a half. Both situations, three counting mine, had ended sharply.

The lack of noise inside my ears opened and improved senses. My hearing improved dramatically. Also, my awareness of my occlumency ability - which had been previously ignored, forgotten, and neglected - now returned to me.

Every hour on the hour I felt a disturbance in my mind. It never feels like legilimency does. Legilimency feels like something is penetrating into my mind. This is different; this feels like something is phasing into my mind.

I was told about Edward's ability to read minds, just as I had been told about Alice's ability to see into the future, and Jasper's ability to manipulate emotions. I've thought about, and examined how I felt about those abilities. None of them had bothered me. At least not then, when I had been told.

I had been under the impression that Edward didn't have a choice in the matter when it came to reading the minds of others. Today's developments bother me - the fact that his presence in my mind can only be detected at regular intervals leads to the conclusion that he has been keeping tabs on my thoughts. He wouldn't have the need to do such as thing, had his ability been truly uncontrollable.

An hour passed during my emotionless rant, and all too soon I felt him trying to get a read on my mind. I tried to block him but it is impossible to stop something that reacts to your blocks as if they are not solid.

My instant response to this was to think of nothing but a color. I picked pink, nothing but pure Barbie pink.

I looked to the doorway, "'lo Edward." As I greeted, him I dug up that same anger I had pushed aside earlier. I allowed that anger to leak into my words. In the kitchen, Jasper flinched, and I wondered why he was in the kitchen.

Edward was confused, I could tell, because he tries to force his abnormal observational skills into overdrive when he is confused. His tell tale sign is that his eyes repeat their paths.

He tried to get into my mind again, and I let out a form of growl that I had only heard leave my lips when I had been in an instinctual state. Then I had been facing my prey. I had no doubt that the three other family members in the house were avidly listening. Furthermore, if Edward had doubts concerning the cause of my earlier growl, they had been erased and forgotten.

"Hermione," he tried tentatively. He was trying to pacify me, and I really wished he wouldn't. "We've told you that I can read minds, and you told us you were fine with the ability." He was standing as if I were an opponent ready to pounce, and that was smart of him. Even as his words displayed his stupidity at how he should handle the situation.

His words had been the truth. However, I learned how to lie that way, too. One of my many Slytherin attributes. The ability to spin partial truths which avoid the actual issue.

"Don't try that," I ordered harshly. "I'm angry, and I'm pissed, but I do know what is going on. This family had a lot to lose if I suddenly go psycho killer, and you got the lovely job of keeping tabs on me." I don't remember standing, but I had somehow gotten very close to Edward. "But what was the point of telling me that you couldn't control your ability?"

I wanted to punch a wall again, or better yet, I wanted to take a swing at Edward. I didn't dare clutch my cross again. The poor, innocent, sentimental thing would crumble had I tried. I started pacing, which in itself was awkward. The past days have made it clear that I am now much more partial to stillness. That is, besides the fact that I had played with the car window for the entire drive to Canada. I hadn't done so on the way how.

"Hermione?" That was Alice. She looked worried from where she sat on my bed after she had blurred past Edward and myself. "Please don't leave." I hadn't even realized that I had formed that thought until she had spoken. As Edward winced, I knew I had. Alice glared at Edward. "Apologize," the petite woman ordered, succeeding in looking extremely intimidating.

"I'm sorry." Edward responded without pause.

Realistically, I knew Edward wasn't at fault. After all, Carlisle had probably told Edward to do as he had been doing. With the safety of both his family, and all of the muggle humans on the line, it made sense to monitor the new vamp. Dumbledore, too, had used his own talents of reading the mind on Harry quite a few times. It didn't matter, though. I was angry, and this doubt of me stung, because I'm doing very well - and worse: I really care about them. I shouldn't have allowed that to happen.

'I'm sorry' wasn't good enough. "How long did you plan on monitoring my thoughts? I've breathed in the scent on every human worn shirt that Alice has brought here. I've sat in rooms with human blood from the blood banks with fans present, and have proven myself. We've heated blood and run it through fish tank pumps, and I have controlled my reactions. I thought I was doing remarkably well. Are you still expecting me to snap and jeopardize everything you have here?"

I wanted him to tell me it was only a habit. But that would be a lie. Edward Cullen stayed silent, and that spoke volumes.

I snorted an unattractive, disappointed snort and left.

I was sitting in my car seconds later.

Note: Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has been reading this story. Also, I wanted to remind you all that from now forward pictures will be linked on my profile.


	11. The Drive

The Drive

I ignored Jasper, who was sitting in the passenger seat of my car. I didn't even spare him a glance as he pressed the button attached to my visor, which opened the garage doors. Instead, I started my car and took off, still ignoring him. While I ignored his presence, I welcomed the acceptance of my departure. Regardless, I continued to ignore him as I sped down the winding path that connected the Cullen property to the main road. When we reached that road, I increased the speed of the vehicle.

The speed helped to burn off my anger. The feel of speeding was a good way to deal with my anger and yet, at the same time, I allowed myself to dwell on the feeling. I had the right to be angry, and I hadn't had this right in a while. I needed this. Therefore, I let myself be angry.

Just as I was grateful of Jasper's acceptance of my departure, I was grateful that he didn't attempt to play with my emotions. Had he done so, I most likely would have thrown him out the window. As a newborn, I would have the strength to manage that feat. He hadn't, though, which was great, because I continued to want to be angry, and I continued to let myself be angry. Just as he was letting me be angry. The whole experience was strangely therapeutic.

Luckily, it was currently dark out. This gave me a larger window of time to drive. Furthermore, through this experience I gained the idea to get my windows tinted. I came to a known conclusion: being shiny sucks.

We continued driving for a long time. I continued to seethe in my anger, grazing over the other emotions which developed soon after. The hours continued until, finally, I acknowledged the time. I glanced down at the glowing green numbers on the dashboard that indicated it was 4:38 AM. I sighed in defeat. It was time to get my emotions under control. After all, I had humored my anger for several hours.

With deep, pointless breaths, I followed through the first critical steps of Occlumency. Jasper watched me in what I assume was a mix of disbelief and confusion as my emotions slid from anger into a calm, peaceful state. The full process took only 2.68 seconds. I had done this many times in the past, and I was well practiced.

I had no idea where we were. I had taken random turns, driven on odd highways, and had chosen unknown exits. "Would you know where a hotel is?" I asked, my eyes never straying from the empty road.

"Take the next exit." He responded simply. I appreciated the space that he gave me, and I hoped that he would still be my brother when this was over and done with.

We received a cocktail of weird looks from the receptionist who checked us into the bed and breakfast. This was no surprise to me. We were, after all, two physically appealing people, checking into a hotel at nearly five in the morning, with no luggage. However, even anticipating her would-be sly glances, I still longed for the days that I could check into a hotel and just be another forgettable face. I didn't breathe in her scent. From the look of Jasper - a nearly pained look - he wasn't breathing her in either. This look on Jasper was odd, but I supposed it was normal when he was around humans. I felt badly; he wouldn't be here if it weren't for me. He would be at home with his once married bride.

Jasper was quicker to pull out his wallet than I, probably because he only needs to reach into his pocket. I, on the other hand, need to dig through my handbag. This has to be some commercial sexist thing. Regardless, Jasper suffered through the routine of being the unresponsive target of the receptionist's flirting as he was getting our room key.

Soon we were walking into a humbly decorated hotel room. Whomever decided that mustard yellow and pastel pink make a good color combination should be shot… twice.

Abandoning my color oriented thoughts, I flung my purse on a nearby chair and crawled onto the bed. My movements were instinctual. I rested my head on my arm, and my thighs met my stomach as I laid on my side. I was in the fetal position - the position of comfort.

Jasper stood stone still as my index finger traced the pattern on the bedspread. The friction wore a hole right through the fabric. This is when I realized that I was done procrastinating.

"So." I prompted.

"So, what?" He failed horribly at the innocent act that the rest of our family manage so well. He stands too stiffly and awkwardly to manage. At least now, when we are close enough to humans that we can smell them.

Still, I humored him, "At some point or another, Edward must have entertained the idea of telling me the truth. Which means that Alice knows the truth, if not from those thoughts, then from before. Alice doesn't keep anything from you, and she also knew that I would take off. Meaning, you're here to convince me not to be mad at Edward. Or at least you are here to convince me to return." I spoke it all like Luna might, with an airy detachment Even if I were somehow wrong, Jasper would not be upset with me.

"I'm not here to convince you to come back." I curled tighter into my ball. "I get it if you need to take off. Back when Alice and I first joined this family, I used to have thoughts about taking off, all the time." His voice and tone reminded me of how old he actually is. I think I forget sometimes. "Of course, Alice knew and those visions made her sad. Each time she had one, she came to terms with leaving the family, because she knew she would come with me." I stayed silent. I didn't ask the question that was burning in my throat. "Reasonably, she told the others. Esme always looked heartbroken. Carlisle would look like a father that knew a son had to make his own mistakes. Rosalie and Emmett never understood, but Emmett would clasp my shoulder and wish me luck. Edward always thought he understood, but he never did. I received the same looks countless times, but I made myself stop believing that I could ever leave. I did this partly because I knew I would never leave, but mainly because I hated putting Alice through that. Believe me when I tell you that I am the last person who will stand in your way if you feel like you need to take off."

I didn't know where to start thinking. Should I run through my feelings about the Cullens and Hales or should I be planning my island? I decided to plan my island, because rationally I knew I would be heading back to Forks come nightfall.

I would need to buy a boat. A large one, because I would be transporting a lot of books to fill my library. I should construct the library separately from the main house. The ideal weather, which would make me shiny, would mean that the walk wouldn't be a problem. A stone path through deep forests and next to a stream. The main house would be in a Victorian style, but the library would have a Roman air.

Jasper spoke, breaking me away from my thoughts, "You're wistful."

"Is it odd that as I idealize my future - an entirely plausible future - I know I won't make it a reality?"

"Yes." I have a feeling he just chose one of his two options.

"Convince me to go back. Convince me to go home." This was the plea I spoke as I sat up and hugged a pillow to my abdomen.

"You're happy there, even if you sometimes feel guilty for that. You love Emmett, Esme, and Alice. You respect Carlisle and want to open up to him, but you don't know how. You're grateful for my presence, and you have begun to view me as an actual brother. You and Rosalie are amused by each other, which I am curious about. Edward confuses you and also highly unsettles you, which makes getting angry with him seem natural. You also know that your anger is either disproportioned or misplaced." He recited honestly.

This wasn't what I had expected. I also hadn't realized that Jasper would have picked up on the circumstances between Rosalie and I. His attempt to convince me to go back only made my respect and admiration of him grow. What bothered me is that I hadn't realized that my thoughts about Edward had leaked into my emotions. Currently, I don't really care if Edward thinks he knows something after reading Jasper's thoughts later. The only point of this exercise was that I wanted to talk and I decided to take my turn.

I chose to start with Rosalie. "Anything existing between Rosalie and I is directly influenced by our relationships with Emmett. In my favor, I have the unquestionable fact that I have always and will always view him as my brother. I have never and will never be a threat to her. At first she didn't like me at all. I was an annoyance who would do nothing but steal Emmett's attention away from her. However, for Emmett she attempted to be nice. That was rather hard for her, I think." Jasper grinned because he would know.

I continued, "It's a type of dislike generally harbored in females. Guys will normally get possessive or throw punches. Females are much more passive in such matters. I've always been friends with guys, and my best friend was famous. I've been through and lived as the target of those same emotions from many girls. Sure, it had bothered me in some circumstances, but my skin hardened. Coming from Rosalie, my brother's girl, it hurt - more so than it ever had before."

I stopped talking for a few moments, and Jasper and I just stared at the unattractive wallpaper. I started again, like I had never stopped, "The solution to our problem seemed to be a male method; not physically, of course, but it was blunt in nature. I flat out told her that I love the fact that the two of them are together and for Emmett, she and I would need to get along. I told her that I don't know how to get along with girls. I've always been a million times more focused on studies than make-up and shopping. I also told her that I held very little interest in guys, besides the friendship I shared with my boys. Then she told me she is going to teach me about cars."

My story had been lacking a lot, because I wasn't going to tell Jasper the theories I had about the dynamics of Rosalie's and Emmett's relationship. Theories which I had told Rosalie. Jasper was content not to pry any further.

"And Edward?" He asked calmly, now sitting in the bland colored chair. I had to be careful with this answer, because there was no doubt in my mind that it would get back to He-Who-Is-An-Annoyance.

"He angered me, for the obvious reasons. The invasion of privacy and the distrust made me mad, but I had known about that for a while. It had been stewing, but then he tried when I was mad about not being able to perform magic, and I snapped. Rationally, I knew - know - that my anger shouldn't be directed at Edward. But it was so easy to allow myself to embrace that emotion. Edward I could be mad at. Carlisle never would have made a proper target.

"My reasons are stupid and childish. Clearly this is unfair of me, but it is the reason. Edward sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable, because he reminds me of someone else. There was an evil man in the Wizarding world, who was only brought down recently. I was in the center of most of the conflict and dueling. When this man was younger and in school he went by his birth name, Tom Riddle. Even then he was evil and plotting.

"There had been objects that we needed to destroy in order to kill him entirely. One of them I destroyed personally and it had provided me of flashes and images of the boy who had created it. He had brown hair, highlighted with gold tones - the style neat - caramel eyes, immaculate clothes, and defined facial features.

"It is unfair of me but my wounds are too recent for me to not see the physical similarities between the pair. Not to mention the feeling, of being with something dangerous, that they both radiate. His appearance unsettles me. I'll get over it in time, but here, now, and in this situation, it did not make matters easier."

Jasper was quiet and he was searching for the pieces that I hadn't filled in for him. The time had come to change the topic. "Alice wouldn't have sent you to tell me that you would understand if I left. What was her plan?"

"She told me to tell you about our library. She informs me you will have found your haven, and she's only showing you because you would have tortured yourself, and not gone in until your strength is completely under control."

If I hadn't already known I was going to return, her bribery would have worked.


	12. The Time

The Time

When Jasper and I returned to the Cullen household, I delivered a half hearted apology to Edward. Even though I had apologized, I hadn't given him the time to respond. This occurred three days ago.

I barricaded myself in my room and have since only allowed Emmett to come in. He has brought me blood to drink, because I haven't the desire to hunt. Emmett also brought me a laptop, because according to him, I needed to start accumulating my own stuff. He said that all girls should buy themselves pretty things, and should be presented with similar items. I decided not to take offence by his words. Instead, I laughed, because laughing is much more enjoyable.

Alice had sent several blank, leather-bound journals with our brother. She had seen me acting out Esme's suggestion to write down my past while I still remember it. I have already filled eight of those ten journals with my small, perfect penmanship. The computer Emmett brought laid unopened, but not forgotten, on my floor.

I know that the family is unhappy about my self-induced isolation, but I know that they understand my reasons. At the end of the first day of my seclusion, Esme had explained to my new family that I was finally taking the time to mourn. She said that I was mourning what happened in my human life. She told them that it was healthy. I really should tell them that my hearing is much better then they assume. Yet each time I came close to trying, the fact suddenly would seem unimportant.

I have gotten a lot closer to Emmett over these past few days. When he comes to visit, he hangs around and acts perfectly normal. Even though I am a mess, he offers me these breaks from my mourning and solitude. I do know that he is concerned, but I love him all the more for shielding me from those feelings of his.

Emmett is a lot like the Weasley twins. He is fun, carefree, loud, playful and mischievous, but more than anything else, he is just a big kid. Regardless, there is one noticeable and significant difference that allows me to grow closer to Emmett: he can be serious when he wants to be, or if he is asked to be. No; a better explanation would be that Emmett keeps his jokes and comments inside of his head.

"Come in." I spoke in what I have learned to be a proper tone, speed and volume for the situation. Emmett hadn't knocked, but he had been outside my door, which is good enough.

Emmett slid into the room with a strange grace, and proceeded to burst out laughing. I raised a venom altered eyebrow.

"Be careful Rose and Alice don't see you, or you'll receive a lecture about the color wheel and the importance of matching." He flopped onto the bed beside me, and I stuck out my tongue at him.

Yes, I was aware that I wasn't wearing matching clothes. However, my wardrobe was not constructed to fulfill my desire for oversized, comfy mourning clothes. I would have loved a pair of black lounge pants and an oversized jumper or robe. Instead, I had settled for a pair of purple plaid boxers that Alice had chosen as one of my only conservative 'sleep' items, and a large long-sleeved yellow shirt that I hardly considered to be large at all. Besides, I think that the concept of matching is highly overrated.

"Shut up." I commented as I humored the idea of going online shopping. Although I can grin and bear it for my sisters now, I have a feeling that I will only be able to be a Barbie on a regular basis for so long.

"Sorry kid, but telling Rose just might be worth it." He disappeared from my side, now opting to sit on the couch. He had moved before I could succeed in pushing him off the bed. Prat.

I stood and made my way to the glass of blood on my dresser. Emmett had placed it there before he nearly squashed me with his belly flop.

I was more in control of my drinking habits, and I've been told that it is a true accomplishment. An accomplishment proven by the fact that I hadn't jumped any of the humans in the hotel that Jasper and I had taken up at. I sincerely hope that my raging emotions had not served as a distraction. I enjoy the idea of having gone near humans and maintaining the control not to drink them.

I ran my hand through my hair. Maybe I should just chop it all off. My mood was drifting down again. The momentary gleam of life that I had felt as Emmett broke me out of my reflection was losing it's glow.

"You need to snap out of this, kid." That dear brother of mine stated bluntly. So much for the pattern of non-serious companionship. He had reminded me more of Carlisle than himself just then, and I had to wonder at the ease with which he could fill the father role in my life.

I slid onto the surface of my desk and sat with my legs intertwined. I wasn't sure if I actually had a certain state to 'snap' out of. If I do, then I believe it would be my choice when I 'go back to normal.' I choose to allow myself to finish my human story before I find a normality in this life.

I twirled a pencil through my fingers, and it didn't shatter. I stole a glance at my replaced mirror and then to the wand still invading my wall. I am depressed. I am mourning. I am productive, and I know that I will eventually be considerably happy. After all, I do have an eternity to move on from where I am.

"Hermione."

"Emmett." I sent back, matching his tone.

My brother switched strategies. "Alice thinks you will like the library." He was bribing me. Emmett never would have been a Slytherin.

"I know." I replied, and I was practicing for just that reason. I leaned my head back against the wall.

"Let's go hunting." He tried again with a grin that I would guess was genuine.

"Take Rose, and make a date out of it. I have more than a few years left to write."I got off the desk without having to use my arms for leverage, and I walked over to my bookcase. The eight volumes that I had written in and the two blank ones that I had yet to start all stood in a neat row. I ran my hand along their bindings. The last two I had completed without ripping any pages.

"Rose likes you." I raised an elegantly shaped, foreign eyebrow. I really hate my eyebrows. "Really," He continued, "besides Esme she has never taken to anyone as quickly, not even Alice. I'm not saying she likes you more than Alice, I'm just saying that she's taken to you quickly."

"I know what you meant." I smiled a fake smile that would have worked on Dumbledore. Sadly, Emmett didn't buy it.

"She's curious about you." He hinted with a goofy grin. He was straight up pleased that Rosalie and I were anything further than civil.

"Is that your way of subtly asking if the family can read my journals?" He grinned a full blown, goofy, childish, grin which I could only ever associate with Emmett. "I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner. Take the first seven if it makes you guys happy. I'm only finishing up the eighth so you will have to take that one later." I kind of didn't want to part with my dark, leather-bound records. The were my past, and I wanted to keep them close. At the same time, if they read about my past then I would need to answer fewer questions - questions which I really didn't want to answer aloud. I've gotten better at choosing the lesser of two evils.

"Do you need more?" He seemed surprised that I might need more journals. Surprised because Alice hadn't foreseen it, no doubt. I just hadn't decided to ask for them, yet.

"Yes, please." He nodded and turned on the tele that he had added to the décor of my room.

I transformed into Pawreed, my animagus state of a furred red panda, and jumped onto the couch next to him. I placed my head on his thigh as he stroked my fur. We had done this everyday thus far, and the peaceful state I could reach during these times is the closest thing to sleep that I will ever acquire.


	13. The Recovery

The Recovery

A week and nineteen journals later, after finishing my history in twenty-seven separate journals, I still hadn't left my room.

I'll be the first to admit that the completion of my task lifted a huge weight off of my shoulders. I just wish that the family hadn't felt the need to discuss the books with such depth and scrutiny, while using their fine toothed comb. I especially wish that they had not done so in volumes which they couldn't have known I would hear. One of these days, I will get around to telling them that my hearing surpasses their own. Furthermore, I sure as hell am not happy that they picked up on even the mildest of subtext. I hadn't even intended to place so much meaning in much of my words. I could only be glad that the emotions and reflections I had associated with the retellings had been written and examined in a different set of corresponding journals.

A few times I found myself wishing for my beloved and trusted time turner. I wished that they had never read my history; that they never received the material that would make them understand my past and, as a result, myself in general as well. Well, I suppose that I would wish that all of them had not read what I had willingly offered, all sans Jasper. In a way, I truly believe that he alone will be the only one I will never regret offering my past too. However, time now is unimportant - it is constant and unchangeable. Such a shame.

I would have been ready to face the world yesterday morning, but timing, fate, and karma have dealt their cards. Had I not set it up and been waiting for it to occur, the event might have set my progress back further than a day. But, silly Granger must always have a plan, and because of this, I can handle coping with the expected results.

Remus Lupin had sent an owl. Thank Merlin for my developed and tightly reigned control because Blitzer, the screech owl, smelled _good_.

_Hermione,_ was written in shaky penmanship on the letter that Blitzer deliver.

_The group of us are currently mourning your untimely death. I will not lie and write that I am not terrified that we have been accurately informed. However, my dear lioness could always hold her own while playing the snake's games. _

_Your accounts have been completely moved. The goblins who were monitoring your muggle accounts told only myself, the one to whom you left everything in your will. However, you knew that the Goblins were monitoring your accounts. You also knew that they would tell me of the transfer, didn't you?_

_I would assume that you left to find yourself - to travel the world - but you would never hurt us by faking your own death. Something doesn't fit in these circumstances and I am worried. If this letter is to find you well, please contact me._

_Always, R.J. Lupin _

_Moony _

My reply was rough and I wasn't pleased with it, but the likelihood of me allowing myself to kill Remus' familiar was comparable to the odds of a unicorn's chance of befriending a slut .

_Dear Remus, _

_Of course, you are right in assuming that the transfer of my accounts was an attempt to get you to write to me. Otherwise, I would have no way to contact you._

_As for the situation I currently find myself entangled in, I am glad that I will get the chance to confide in you, even if only partially. However, this is my chance to start a new life, and I would appreciate your explicit confidence. _

_I have been accepted into a family of vampires. We survive off of animal blood. _

_I am willing and want to keep up a correspondence with you, but I have to have your promise that you will not come searching for me unless there is a dire reason to. _

_My name is Hermione Jane Bishop at the moment, but I will ask you to write to me under the name Jane Bishop. _

_I miss you, Moony, but this is where I need to be. This is where my path has lead me._

_Jane Bishop_

_Pawreed. _

Now, I just sit, thinking. I am ready to walk out my door, I'm just not sure that I am prepared to hand my last two books over to the family. I don't think that I am ready for them to know the details of the war. Especially my experiences and involvement in said war. My bloody hands, tainted conscious, and cynical mind seemed to cling to their secrecy.

I entered the closet that I normally avoided and stashed the two volumes in the safe at the very back. Even if the top-of-the-line safe would do nothing against a vampire's strength, none in this house would break the message their location offered. I closed the safe as soon as possible, only slowing my movements enough to avoid damaging the steel. Then, I grabbed the closest thing to me, which was a white sundress. I didn't think twice before changing into it. This action's victim was the coat hanger. The weak, wooden thing that it had been had simply crumbled in my shaky grasp. The process was terribly disappointing.

Esme and Rosalie were out hunting, and Carlisle was still at work. Alice was moving to the sitting room from her studio. This meant that she had already foreseen my departure from my room. Edward too was heading for that same sitting room. Emmett and Jasper were wrestling in the back yard.

My hand rested on the door knob for forty-three seconds before I changed my mind and went back to my bed. My second try had me holding the door knob for twenty-eight seconds before I opened the door and headed for the second floor sitting room.

I didn't make it to the sitting room. My Gryffindor courage cracked, crumbled, and turned to charred dust. I ended up in the library. Old habits rarely die - at least not completely.

The Cullen library is by far the most amazing library I have ever stepped foot into. I would venture to admit that my dream island library might have the place beat, but that place is nothing more than a mere fantasy. This - this unbelievably breathtaking place - is reality. Solid, real, and one hundred percent accessible to me.

Realistically, the library could not be anywhere that might be located by outsiders. With the number of years this family has lived, and the amount of money they have accumulated in a variety of ways - Alice playing the stock market included - the resources, volumes, manuscripts, scrolls, and private journals that formed the private collection would raise far too many questions; Questions which the family would not be able to answer. The main method of protecting the secret was to construct the library in the underground levels of the house.

From what I gathered during the tour that I had given very little of my attention to, there are nearly half a dozen underground levels. The library occupied two of those floors.

The lower of the two levels has a tiled floor. Like the color scheme of the entire library, the colors were a dark chocolate brown and a dull gold. The flooring was made unique by the checkered tiles with distinctive patterns bordered by more detailed paneling. But the coloring and flooring mattered very little to me.

The tables were lined by high-backed chairs. Classic furniture of a less comfortable time period, however vampires hardly need comfortable seating and the image is more than esthetically pleasing. I could care less about the furniture.

Following the heightened image of length was the placement of the chandlers. Each were placed precisely the proper distance from each other and mimicked the line of the tables. To increase the lighting, and to mask the fact that the room was underground, rectangular ceiling lights were also in place. Yet I have no need for proper lighting.

The spiral form of the stairs linked the bottom level to the balcony formed on the second floor. They are twin staircases and the orange of the wood was reflective beauty. These I liked.

Still, I admire the beautifully crafted red grained mahogany bookshelves that wallpapered the room. Each holding books that will take me decades to make my way though. I could stare at the bookcases for hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, and perhaps for even longer still, and my gaze would never wander far from worship.

This place, which I knew would quickly become one of my favorite places in the world, would serve as a nice distraction.

* * *

A/N: I haven't left author notes in this story and I don't plan to in the future. However, I would like to take this change to first, thank all you wonderful people who have been reading this story. Second, I would like to ask if anyone would be interested in editing this story before I send off the chapters to my primary beta. I would love to cut down the amount of work RavenclawGenius offers for this story and I would also love to get another persons opinion on the story before the chapters are posted. If anyone is interested please let me know. Thank you!


	14. The Virgin

The Virgin

The library could only shield me for so long. Eventually, I did manage to drag myself into the sitting room occupied by four of my new family members. To be absolutely honest, the fear and resistance I had held for the prospect of joining the real world, of joining my _family_, had been stupid.

When I had joined them in the sitting room we had taken up like I hadn't been away from their eyes. Like I hadn't been hiding and isolating myself for more than the past week. Seamlessly, we had fit into the roles of bonding teenagers and in doing such, we talked.

"I'm not a virgin" I replied slightly confused as to why Alice had simply assumed that I am. I know that I had yet to hand over that portion of my life, but is the idea that I have experienced intercourse really that unthinkable?

Emmett gawked at me, confirming that yes, it is unthinkable. Edward seemed confused, but I am assuming that it is only because he isn't used to not _knowing_. Alice is sitting and grinning at me like a Cheshire cat, excited over the prospect of a new juicy story. Jasper simply sat, quietly amused.

"Edward is." Alice commented cheerfully and Edward rolled his eyes in response. I couldn't fathom spending a century being celibate. I took a moment to fear that might be exactly what my next hundred years will entail. Now Jasper looked confused.

The other thing I realized, besides the fact that I didn't want to go a hundred years without sex, was that I wasn't sure that I even wanted to know anything about Edward's sex life. Correcting Alice's assumption and pronouncing myself not a virgin had not been awkward to me. I am a mature, of age women who had to grow up to soon in a world that none of us had ever fully understood. Admitting that I had had sex, an occurrence which happens to be completely natural, is the least of the things I am ashamed to admit.

"Why?" I voiced. My question hadn't been hesitant, but it had followed a prolonged silence as I had examined my thoughts. I couldn't see the logic of Edward living a hundred years resisting his sexual desires. Some part of me was even a little worried that intercourse might be different for vampires then it is for humans.

Emmett was still gawking and I know he would be grinning if it weren't me. In some sense, I know that I should be cherishing this proof that he truly sees me as his baby sister.

"I haven't found the right girl." Edward's answer was simple- too simple.

I almost didn't respond. He had actually answered what I asked, but it was so hard sometimes to tell when Edward was just answering something or when his voice was meant to be dissuading. I took a step back, emotionally, from the issue. I made this no more then a matter of debate and I was pretty sure that my voice was convey as much, "It's not always about finding the right person. You only need to find a right person." I argued, because the matter wasn't simple and I didn't like that he tried to make it be.

"I believe that a person only truly falls in love once." He countered in a manner which showed that he had embraced the debating tone and which also admitted to the years of thought he had put into his belief.

"As do I." I agreed, but it was enough to volley the ball back and again it was his turn.

"Then how can you believe that there is more then one right person?" I couldn't tell if this was a challenge or an actual curious question.

Regardless, it was a question to be answered. "Which person is right varies depending on what you're looking to get out of sex. Be it a display or consummation of love, pleasure, reproduction, company, camaraderie, comfort, or for any other reason, the right person will differ."

"And when a person is looking for all of this?" These words were meant as a challenge.

"No one is ever looking for all of this, at least not at once, not in one moment." This is a sad concept, but a truthful one.

"What were you looking for?" Jasper cut in, his voice strong yet quiet. I prefer his voice to Edwards'. Edward always sounds judgmental and like he is trying to view me trough a microscope to pick me apart. Jasper's voice is caressing and comforting, like he is trying create a lasting connection with me. In doing so, he always seems to give up a little piece of himself for me to take as he learns about me.

"Comfort and experience, I didn't want to die a virgin." I admitted, this time it was more personal and when I had answered, my voice had been a bit more subdued. However, Jasper had made to change the conversation and I wasn't going to fight against him. I wasn't the one who knew what was occurring emotionally in Edward. Thus, the turn of conversation was in no way, and should never be, my call.

Unfortunately, my answer had gotten Alice eager eyed as much as it got Edward thinking more deeply. I had sounded too sure of myself for him to not think about what I said.

"Oh, which one was he?" Alice asked gleefully, but it was an unintentional dig at the fact that they hadn't read that portion of my life.

Yet, at the same time that same dig made me feel amazingly appreciative. We weren't skirting around topics and that was nice. They weren't acting like I would go running into my room if they ended up saying the wrong thing. Had they cautioned themselves, I might have run. Besides, these bits of my life I could manage to relay, at least in increments and measured tones.

"Charlie, he was Ron's older brother." They knew who Charlie was, but it felt wrong not to include the other bit.

Alice continued as if the boys weren't there. I'm not used to girl talk, but I can tell my own story. "How did that happen?" she asked in curiosity. This time she didn't sound surprised. However, there was no ignoring the fact that Charlie and I had little contact before things had started to develop.

"We were assigned a research project together." That fact was easy enough to admit. "I was so used to having to be the strong, unflinching, reassuring, mother figure, that it was nice not to have to be that person. Finally, working with Charlie, I was allowed to have fears. When talking to Charlie, I was allowed to be human." I missed those weeks of pure research and freedom. My voice, I knew, betrayed those emotions of longing, tenderness and melancholy. More then I missed the freedom and research, I missed Charlie. Being a dragon keeper, many people underestimated his intelligence, but they were wrong. I experienced his intelligence as a constant and was repeatedly reminded by glimmers of that intelligence why he had been head boy in his day.

They didn't question me on Jasper's lead and I chuckled. My emotions keep jumping and fluctuating so rapidly that none of them would even need Jasper's abilities to track or notice the alterations.

"We talked about a variety of things," I continued, "many of them including what the rest of the house feared to speak. One of the topics we ended up on frequently was death and during one of those times I admitted that I didn't want to die a virgin."

I spared them the details; well, really, I spared Emmett the details. He still looked a bit unwell. Besides, I wasn't too keen on spelling out for them what Charlie could do to make sure I wouldn't die a virgin. That was a bit too personal and something I would rather keep close.

"Charlie and I continued our relations and continued to get closer. We weren't in love, but it was real enough for us." My voice shuddered as I let the words out. "In the midst of a war we were what each other needed. We didn't broadcast it, only one person ever figure it out and a scarce few others came close. I'm not a person to shy away from physical contact, chaste kisses, lingering touches, hugs, an arm over my shoulders, cuddling on couches. I did these things with everyone and it didn't really mean anything." I shrugged, but I was missing those moments immensely. "He died a few months before the final battle. Did it properly too, saved more than a dozen of us." If my eyes could have they would be watering which was signal enough for me to stop.

"But, you did love him." Edward protested, he was still trying to make sense of his beliefs. I felt bad, I had only shared my thoughts and past. He could conclude from it what he liked.

"No. I might have, given more time; but no, I didn't love him. At least, not in the way you are referring."

"You miss him." Jasper contributed.

"I miss all of them." I replied, but I was distracted by another thought. So I embraced the change for as much my emotional state as satisfying my curiosity. "Jasper, does your power work by you feeling what someone else is feeling or by you reading what a person is feeling?"

"That depends on how close to a person I am."

"Then I may owe you an apology."

"Accepted," he offered without thought, but his tone made it clear that it hadn't been necessary.

I laughed, Alice laughed, and the boys watched us in confusion. Emmett joined us laughing because sometimes a person just needs to laugh. It took us a while to stop, but we didn't need to regain our breaths.

The five of us had gone through enough topics; the virgin topic had only been one of many. Emmett eventually put on some gore filled guy movie. Twenty minutes into it I laid my legs across Edward's lap. Because even though he reminds me of a young Tom Riddle, I'll be damned if I let a memory make me feel unease around my brother.


	15. The Unwanted

Third Life

The Unwanted

The group of us that had been watching movies and talking had disbanded slowly as the remaining three members of the family arrived home. Alice and I were the only ones left in the once-avoided sitting room. Suddenly, it seemed that the disbanding was more likely caused because they had known that Alice wanted to talk to me. One day I will be on the same wavelength as them, and such tricks will not work on me.

I wanted them to come back. I screamed out in my bubbled mind for them to do so. I knew in the very pit of my stomach that I would not like what my new sister was going to tell me. A memory of Jasper calling her a little monster surfaced and I wondered if by the end of this conversation I would use that name for her as well.

"Hermione," her voice confirmed that I was not going to like what she had to say. I waited a prolonged moment to feel my heart beat race in my chest. A sped up heartbeat was a condition that I have come quite accustomed to in the past. What I needed to get used to know was the chilling feeling that drenched my being as I realized I was once again waiting for something that was no longer part of my existence. I have no heartbeat to feel.

Alice tends to be the vampire that takes up the task of relaying the bad news. This is because she tends to be able to predict how to control the receiver's reactions, and also because of her nature. Alice is an energetic and optimistic person; these are emotions that tend to send out vibes and convince those around her to fall into those emotions as well. Alice is also good at this job because, as childlike as she may act at times in order to amuse herself, she is mature. She can take things seriously, and she can fall into the role of an understanding, beloved aunt without pause.

In the recent past I have spent a considerable amount of time with Emmett, during which he has told me many stories about the antics and experiences in his and our family's past. Carlisle has always been the one to explain to the newly turned what has happened. However, all other negative news tends to come from the Alice and Jasper couple. The pair of them have breaking bad news down to a science. Like when Rosalie's car had been severely wounded during a hit and run, her own car being parked and stationary, Jasper had been the one to tell her of the occurrence and amount of damage her car had sustained. According to Emmett, the strength of the soothing waves radiating from Jasper had just barely stopped Rosalie from going on a rage to catch the assailant. Apparently, those same waves of calmness have been some of the strongest Jasper has ever had to produce.

"I am really not going to like this." I spent a little effort locating Jasper in the house, by means of my hearing. He is in their bedroom, literally just above us. Proximity wise, he is near enough to use his power on my emotions. That is why he is currently in his room to begin with. He is there so that if Alice misjudged her ability to tell me without consequences, he could act. Those consequences most likely included me going on a rage and killing many innocents. I _really _was not going to like this.

"Well, it depends on how you look at it, really." Her tone was light, even while it was braced with a serious nature. This could only be a bad thing in my opinion. I started listing what I alone might view as terrible.

"How I look at what?" I asked cautiously. I do have experience receiving bad news, but that does not mean I am stupid enough to rush into receiving that same information. Flashes of all the bad news I have ever received flickered rapidly in my minds eye. Being told my sister had been hit, the doctors telling us she hadn't made it, my parents fighting, every stupid stunt that put Harry's life in danger, each death and injury of Order members, of friends, the death of my mother, the silhouette of my murderer.

She backpedaled. I had acted differently than she had thought. I didn't know if that was a good thing or not. "Remember the other day when you entertained the idea of sparring with Emmett?"

I had only thought of it briefly. Either she had been keeping an eye on my future as she does for Jasper, or that small little thought had opened important doors; informative doors. "What would have happened if I had sparred with Emmett?" My voice was harder than I would have liked, but I was scared. Was she going to tell me that I should never spar, because I would have killed him? Was my fate to kill my dear Emmett?

"No, no, please calm down." Alice placed a hand on my knee as she scooted over to me to sit closer. "It really isn't a terrible thing. Actually, it could be quite great. I just know that you aren't going to like it right away. Really, you don't need to worry. Eventually, you might like the idea." She nodded, really wanting that to be my fate. I eyed her, letting her rant with quick words because eventually it would come out. "The timing is really the only reason that you might not like this. I mean it would have been a nice thing to develop during your human life, but it really would be impossible for it to occur then." I was confused, and as I listened to her rant I worked to control my emotions so that I might be in a rational state when she finally told me. "Hermione, you have a special ability." I had been wrong. Alice controlled too many secrets to let something slide out of her mouth that she didn't plan to say.

Alright, an ability couldn't be so bad, could it? "Alice," even to me, my voice sounded desperate, "what did you see?"

Alice didn't meet my eyes, which was another bad sign. At this point I just wanted, needed, her to tell me. She seemed to grasp this. "You spared with Emmett and won. Then you felt bad, because you had beat him up a bit. Not terribly bad, but you are a very kind hearted person." She was holding my hand and I appreciated it. I didn't appreciate her still dragging this out, but it was coming, and I could tell. Knowing this gave me patience. "You healed him." She finally stated, clearly and with a worried edge.

"Healed how?" I growled. She was right; I wasn't going to take this well, even with my mental preparations. I didn't even dwell on the pride in beating Emmett or the guilt at hurting him in a once-possible future.

"Not with wandless magic." She crushed my only remaining thread of hope. "You held your hands over his chest and the injuries knitted together, healing them instantly."

"I don't want it." I was shaking my head, trying to live in the irrational thought that Alice had the power to take my own away from me.

"Hermione-" She was hugging me now, I was shaking. I hadn't even known I still retained the ability to shake.

"No."

"I know that you would have rather have this power during the war-"

I was rude, and I cut her off. I was cruel with what I said. "You mean when I watched the dying forms of my friends? I don't want it, not now when the only people I am around and care about are immortal. What use is it? A constant reminder of my inability to save my friends?" I really, really wanted to cry. Alice just hugged me and allowed me to be cruel.


	16. The One

Third Life

Chapter: The One

* * *

The desk was the same aged piece that had been in my room upon my arrival. Unlike some of the other more breakable furniture pieces, this one had yet to need replacing. The paper, I located in the same draw I had found it all that time ago when I had made my first list of this new life. The pen too was easily locatable in the canister that now held less pencils as I tend no to break them much any more. Occasionally, but not with that embarrassing frequency that I once had.

With paper and a writing instrument handy, I could only conclude that the time I was willing to dedicate to procrastinating was sharply coming to an end. Besides, the fact that I am procrastinating at all is too much a testament to the dreaded task.

I don't know why I have put this off as I have. Once upon a time I would never hesitate to pen long letters to him for any and all reasons. In one way or another he has always been there for me. Maybe this letter just scares me because in away, I think I really need to put an end to that reliance, familiarity and presence. I'm not ready too. I will never be ready too, I know this too well. However, what I am gives me no choice.

My pen hit's the paper and I do not allow myself an ink blot of hesitation, that would only be an insult to the man.

_To a One Professor Severus Snape,_

_To be honest, I am at a loss when it comes to starting this letter. Years ago, I would have never imagined this being something that I felt obligated to do, never mind something that I would want to do. Maybe it would be best for me to start at the beginning, but before I do that I will ask you to keep your silence. I have never known you to be a man who will break confidences or even share information when you had no need to. However in these circumstances, I do not plan on telling any party further than Remus, George and yourself what is going on and what is developing. More than that, I am not sure I will be telling them quite as much as I plan to tell you. At least not as soon._

_When I left for the States I didn't have a plan. My plane ride was filled with idle observations, and a failed attempt to direct my future towards a medical profession. Remus had set me up at a residence belonging to Ted Tonks, but I never planned on going there. I didn't know where I would go, and in a way I liked that idea - the idea of roaming, and of freedom._

_The day after I arrived, I set out to spend some time in the local woods. I was there for perhaps too long. _

_Only now am I remembering the thoughts that I had all that time ago, and this seems weird to me. My thoughts are not normally unknown to me, but just now I am realizing why I didn't want a plan; why I wanted to travel; why I was running. I wasn't even running from what I believed I might have been. I had been under the impression that I was running towards solitude, and a normal life. I wasn't. I was running away from a threat that I knew would come, but I had forced myself to not acknowledge it._

_Obviously, you remember the events of my fifth year. Undoubtedly, you also remember the aftermath of those events, and the injuries included in that aftermath. The curse that hit my chest - the one sent by Antonin Dolohov - was presumed to be unknown. He had cast it nonverbally, and the healers could find nothing to hint at even the brand of magic that had been used. This worried me, to the point that it created a consuming feeling in the pit of my stomach. _

_I should have gone to you, just like I should have made all of us go to you once Harry assumed that Voldemort had Sirius. At least when it came to the issue of Sirius, I had an excuse for not bringing the matter directly to you; I was trying to prevent Harry from doing something stupid, and even your name would have made matters worse. I don't know why I didn't go to you once my suspicions started. Instead, I did what I have always been known to do; I went to the library. _

_It took me two years of combing through the library at Hogwarts, the Black's library, and privately owned bookstores of the shadier variety. Eventually, I had formed the likeliest scenario of what might have occurred, based upon my fragmented feelings and blurry memories. _

_The information that I had accumulated all pointed towards either a personally developed curse, or an old family trick. The way this one - the one that I had then only assumed I had been hit with - worked was by creating pockets to contain a extremely raw form of dark magic. Left untouched, I wouldn't imagine this causing anything worse than the occasional piercing stomach ache or chronic heart burn. If activated, via a chant… well, I had nightmares about being consumed by dark magic, from the inside out._

_You might be confused, because as you know Antonin Dolohov died by the Kiss. I never went to his trial. It bothered me that everyone assumed it was because he had cursed me in the past. Which it was, but I was never afraid of him; I just wasn't stupid enough to give him the proximity to be able to activate the magic. And the low expectations of my ability to face my attacker was insulting._

_Back to the initial matter, I watched the trial through a memory that Remus was kind enough to provide me. About a quarter way through there was something off about Dolohov's behavior. In some ways it might sound egotistical, but instinctually it felt like a threat, and I decided that he must have signaled someone about his started attempt to take my life. _

_I went through every single person in that court room, and none of them had the proper connection to Dolohov to be that threat. But how many other people would be out there watching the trial in the same manner I was, or even by different means? I had to come to terms with the fact that someone out there need only chant to take my life._

_I was wrong; the pain that came with the release of the stored dark magic wasn't consuming. Like acid, it was dissolving me from the inside out, and what's worse? It started with my magic. I'm not sure if it is the same with everyone, but for me my magic has always felt like a solid mass inside of me. Something like a core, and the part that the magic succeed in dissolving was the evolutionary foundation of magic, developed over thousands of years. I can still sense magic, I can still transform in to Pawreed, I'm more acutely aware of my Occlumency, and while I have yet to explore wandless magic and apparition, I have a feeling that I will be able to do so. My wand does not work, and I think that I am merely in the position of a witch born before the creation of wands. After all, a wand is only an outlet and enhancement for magic, even though it feels like such an important extension of ourselves. _

_The venom stopped the dark magic from progressing. _

_I have always known you to be a man who does not see the world in black and white. I actually believe you to see the world in gray, and that you see no black or white at all. _

_For example, I know you hate Remus. I also know that the hatred is not built on his state, or even on a fear developed years and years ago. Any dislike or even stronger emotions you feel towards him are because of the man, or even the people the man affiliated himself with - but not the wolf. After all, had such hostilities been because he is a werewolf, you would not be trying to develop a cure. You may lie all you like and say that you are doing such for the money, or for the fame, but you desire neither and if your excuse be that it is for the challenge, then there would certainly be other potions to reign in your interest just as much, if not more so. _

_Your reasons for feeling what you feel and for believing in what you believe are all created in webs of complex ideas and decisions. I feel no need to attempt to explain to you. All that matters is that for such a judgmental person, you are by far one of the most fair and open minded men that I know._

_I hope that those tendencies carry over to this matter. _

_I have been saved from death by means of being transformed into a vampire. _

_I believe that the person who activated the curse was a secret or illegitimate son of Dolohov, because the resemblance in their vocals was frightening. Either way, the man was scared off by the arrival of a third party - Emmett, my sire. I don't need to tell you about the connections made between the turned and the sire. As we know, you are more than qualified to teach about that. Our connection is that of particularly close siblings. _

_The family - coven - that I have been accepted into are very different from the nomadic killers that I have read about, which is particularly convenient, seeing as I refused to drink human blood upon my awakening. This family survives by drinking animal blood, and keeps residences in different areas for periods of several years. Currently, we are settled near a small town, and five of them - soon to include myself - attend the local high school. _

_I'm happy. It has been tough settling into the new lifestyle, and it is harder still to mourn while simultaneously managing a new, foreign lifestyle. I'm in the right place, though. _

_This letter is getting hard to write again. _

_You know a fair bit more about my past than most, meaning you are aware that it has been a very long time since I have felt any semblance of belonging to a functional family. The whole lot of you were like family to me, but here and now I am with a family of my own, and I never knew how much of a difference that could make._

_I'm not coming back. Realistically, I never had to write this letter, because all I wanted to tell you was that I wasn't coming back, and my assumed death would have told you that. I just owe you so much more than my disappearance off the face of the earth, and an abrupt death._

_I have so much more to say, but I'm not quite sure what I should mention._

_You have been in my life and have been such a big factor for so many years. And in a lot of ways, I would have never gotten to where I am without you, and while I'm not sure exactly if that is a good or bad thing, I appreciate it all the same. But that was thanks for my childhood, and we knew each other after that, too._

_I can't began to thank you for everything you have ever done for me and said to me since then. You have been there to open doors that I could have screamed alohamora to for hours with no results, and when I was in miserable states that I hid from everyone, you were there to put me together with no judgment or distaste. I don't know if I should call you a friend, or even if that term would be appropriate, but I needed to tell you that I am going to be okay. _

_I don't expect you to write back; I won't even ask that of you. I just felt you should know that if you might ever need a favor of me, you should contact me without hesitation._

_These days I'm going by the name Hermione Jane Bishop. I have told Remus that if he is ever to write to me, it should be under the name Jane Bishop, and the same goes for you._

_Good bye Severus, and thank you. _


	17. The Wolves

_Third Life_

_Chapter: The Wolves _

_I wasn't surprised when I walked into my room to find an owl perched at the open window. I had smelt the bird as it approached the house and had excused myself from the family's company to fetch the letter which I was sure the owl would be in possession of. Magical owls are brave creatures - or rather, they have the ability to get out of dangerous situations quickly. This was how I knew without a doubt that this bird would be magical. Average animals tend to stay far away from the house. _

_Even expecting the bird as I had been, when I opened the door I was still surprised, and that surprise was not bred from the presence of a parcel. However, curiosity won over and I addressed the contents of the letter before I allowed myself to think on its carrier. _

_I unfolded the parchment with steady fingers, willing myself not to tear the letter to shreds. _

_Pawreed, _

_Thank Merlin you're alright; the circumstances which make this so matter very little to me. I'll keep your secret, but you should acknowledge that you always have a home here. You always have a home with me. _

_I insist that you give me an address. I won't abuse your trust by invading your privacy, but it does not sit well with me not knowing where you are._

_There are various objects in the Potter vault which I believe Harry would like me to send you. I'm not sure about your magical abilities, so I have only sent the jewelry, none of which are shrunk. _

_I wish that I could tell you more about these pieces, but my own knowledge is limited. Regardless, Harry would have wanted these to be with you. He would have never trusted them to anyone else. _

_Among the pieces are Lily's and James's wedding bands and Lily's engagement ring. The latter is also a Potter family heirloom. _

_Lily had never been fond of most of the Potter heirlooms. They were too flashy for her distinctive tastes. We always called her tastes odd, but those same tastes remind me a great deal of you. The ones that she had taken to from the Potter's collection were mostly in the Victorian style and crafted at the turn of the century. _

_The lion themed jewelry were a continuous joke of James'. He would always bring them home to Lily and she became quite fond of some and laughed at the unattractive others. I sent these because they were important to my friends, but mainly because I want you to remember that you are a lioness._

_Now, with that out of the way, I feel it is my right to litter you with questions. Are you well? What are these new family members of yours like? Do you need me to send you anything? What state is your magic in? Are you sure that there is no one you would like me to inform? What about your animal form? Is that still possible for you? Will you ever consider coming home? _

_Please, anything else you want to answer, I want to know._

_R.J. Lupin_

_Moony_

I set the letter and the plainly wrapped package to the side of my desk. I could reply to it later. Remus had been right, though. Harry would have wanted me to have his mother's jewelry. I was appreciative that he sent these and that he cares, but if I were to answer now my letter would be seeped with anger and dislike.

"Will you stay in the area and come back at some point tonight?" The owl hooted and set off into the forest. My control was steady, but I wouldn't tempt myself, even if the bird was a stranger to me. Remus hadn't sent his familiar - the same familiar that I had sent back unharmed with a reply to his first letter. The distrust he had, even when I had proved him wrong already, hurt.

I wanted to look at the jewelry, but Rosalie informed me that Carlisle wanted to see me. That had been when I was first heading to my room, and I had spent enough time reading Remus's letter. It was time for me to get around to talking with Carlisle. I could write a letter to Remus latter. I could also attach the one I had written to Severus and send it with that same stranger bird. Actually, I should probably get around to drafting a letter to George as well.

The path to Carlisle's study from my room was down two floors and a quarter hallway's distance away. The journey seemed like nothing at all, and soon I was just outside his door. He granted me entrance before I could knock. He had heard my approach, because I prefer it when I can hear my own foot steps.

I entered.

Carlisle was seated behind his desk, but the whole scene was welcoming, and the barrier didn't keep me from feeling like his equal. "Hello, Hermione." He was smiling - that smile of his that makes him a popular doctor as well as a competent one.

"Carlisle." I greeted, smiling back at him as I followed his signal to sit.

"You're going to be out of the house soon, which means it would be prudent of me to tell you about the treaty."

I knew the outline of the treaty. Only a little because Alice wedged it in during a particularly interesting discussion and I had wanted to get back on point. Regardless, I knew that the treaty was a means of peace as long as the Cullens did not bite a human in the lands specified in the treaty. Apparently, the tribe was a pack of werewolves who made the Cullens respect their power in the area. I found this a little odd. I knew that we would never bite a human so there was little problem on that front, but I saw no reason to fear the strength of a werewolf. Or even a pack of werewolves for that matter.

"What problems are there going to be? Now that I have joined the family, that is?" I really hated how many problems and tasks seemed to pop up for them because of my appearance. I hated that my mere presence was causing them difficulty and putting them at risk, even if they would never admit to such.

"You know about the treaty then?" I nodded. "Well, I have requested an audience with their current chief head. I will meet with him tomorrow at the border and we will find out their reactions then."

I really hated being trouble. "As rude as this may sound, what damage could they really do to us? The worst I could think of would be exposure, but surely they would know that it would bring even more danger upon themselves." I was really trying to reassure myself about the caused trouble rather than downplaying the situation to Carlisle.

"They could declare a war with our family." He was displeased by my last statement. I lowered my head. I still didn't understand the severity of the issue. Once I realized how submissive I seemed to be acting, I raised my head and looked him in the eye. I would not allow myself to be submissive just because I am afraid of disappointing those whom I cherish.

"I still don't see the danger. Even in a pack, werewolves would not be able to cause any true threat to a coven of vampires of our size. Especially, when we could easily leave the area on the nights of their transformations. Besides, I hardly see how a treaty would cause much difference. A werewolf does not naturally keep his or her mind in their transformed state." I was in my know-it-all classroom mode, my voice still maintaining the tone even with my changed vocal cords. I was almost proud.

"I think you are a bit mistaken about the qualities of a werewolf." I raised an eyebrow and let my face show my confusion as I allowed him to continue. "A werewolf can change form whenever he pleases, a female can not be bestowed the honor. Furthermore, they retain their human thoughts, even transformed."

"For an honor-bound bunch they seem to think little of honor if they have led you to believe such. First off, a werewolf will only transform on the night of the full moon and unless they had consumed the wolfsbane potion, they will have no control over their actions and will have no awareness of their human mind. As for females not being transformed, any human bitten by a werewolf on the night of the full moon will be turned into a werewolf as well. Lastly, I have no idea what the honor in being a werewolf is. As far as I can tell, only the twisted of mind enjoy being a werewolf. The ones I have befriended over the years have all been active supporters of the researched being preformed to create a cure."

"I think we have quite different definitions of werewolves. Are you telling me that you are sure that the werewolves you have described do indeed exist?"

"Seeing as I have both seen the transformation and been involved in some of the research for a cure, yes, I would say that I know more than a bit about them. Actually, I would feel comfortable saying that I most likely know more about werewolves than vampires." A sad concept seeing as I am now a vampire myself.

"Then would it be fair to assume that this bunch is a different type of werewolf?" I thought about it. The idea of different breeds just didn't seem right. Marcus had come from a werewolf pack in Brazil and he had never said anything about different werewolf breeds. The only thing I could conclude is that they think they are werewolves. A conclusion that admitted to limited or no knowledge of the Wizarding world.

"Didn't it strike you as off that their abilities didn't match up to what you knew from your days with the vampire and werewolf hunts?" I asked, curious but also wanting more time to process my thoughts. Had they no knowledge of magic, then for all purposes they would be nothing more than muggles. Animagus sounded like the most logical conclusion. Rarely, a muggle will accidentally become an Animagus, or rather a shape shifter.

"Our ideas of vampires were quite wrong." Carlisle admitted as a hinting explanation. Shape shifters are rare; the idea that there would be a tribe that continuously produces shape shifters, and of the same animal is remarkable.

I spent a good deal of time explaining to Carlisle the differences between shape shifters and werewolves, and amused him with my desire to observe and basically study the tribe. We both knew that would never happen, but I could wish. The conversation eventually was exhausted and I left Carlisle to do his work. As I walked back towards my room, I started drafting a letter to George:

_Dear George, _my mind started to dictate_, _

_I understand how strange it must be to receive a letter from me when you have been informed of my death. Had I been able to tell you immediately what was going on I would have. However, I was not given the opportunity to do so until very recently. Remus caught on to an inconsistency I left behind and contacted me. Through him, you are getting this letter and also the instruction to not inform the others. I'm sorry, but I feel that this really is for the best._

_You and I think a great deal differently than the rest who fought in the war. For us, it is easier to know that a person we care about is out there and okay but not coming back, having no intention of coming back, than to know that they are dead. For the others, especially now when we have lost so many, I think it best to let them continue thinking that I am gone and somewhere with the many we love who have perished. _

_I have no intention of contacting anyone but Remus, Severus, and yourself. I can think of no others whom might benefit from knowing I am out there residing far away from everyone connected to my past. For my given reasons, but also because I know what I have to tell you won't upset you three in the way it would the others. _

_I DID die that night in the forest. _

Alice interrupted the process, calling me back to reality to go see her newest clothing masterpiece. This was fine, after all; a vampire has all the time in the world to occupy.


	18. The Impossible

Third Life

Chapter: The Impossible

* * *

"Rosalie," I was surprised by her presence here. Not many of the residence took to sitting on the roof as I have. "What are you doing up here?" I settled myself next to her, uninvited, because like it or not she needed someone at the moment and somehow I knew sending Emmett up to her would not be the right action. Or at least, doing so, would not be sufficient enough.

Rosalie easily slid her cold, distant, and beautiful mask back into place. She didn't trust me still. I was only the newly discovered kid sister of her love. Rosalie really had no attachments to me. The agreement of civility was only a conformation that she even had no plans to become attached to me. Likewise, I had no plans of my own to change that fact. "Just a bit of fresh air."

I couldn't be sure but, I do believe Rosalie still uses her mask because she still considers me more human then vampire. She wouldn't except me to realize that vampires don't get cravings for fresh air. We get cravings for copper scented air. Though, us residing here, in this manner, we settle for unflavored air, in hopes of avoiding temptation. Fresh air, that just holds no allure, no importance. Regardless of the Cullen oddities, scholars know this truth. The fact of Vampires having no preference of fresh air, they have recorded so. Furthermore, this is a tidbit about myself that I hadn't realized until I remembered I had read it somewhere. From her point of view it should have been the perfect device to make me go away or simply not question her. Better yet, a way to confirm her belief that I really am not one of them.

I really had spent to much time around Slytherins.

"Hmm, odd, I wasn't aware that fresh air appealed to our kind." I didn't emphasize the word our as I might have done if I were talking to Harry or Ron. Rosalie would pick up on it, she would have been a Slytherin. Funny, because Emmett would have sat himself in Gryffindor with a proud grin.

Rosalie stared at me for a while but her glaze was nothing that I couldn't ignore. As she thought and mulled over whatever she had taken from my comments, I studied the moon. My talk with Carlisle about werewolves had made me miss the moon. Remus and I used to just sit and watch it some nights. He said he liked the idea that on normal nights the glowing orb in the sky had no power over him. Now I respected that opinion more so then I ever had. One day, a promise to myself, blood would have no affect over me.

"Like you, I came up here to think." She submitted airily. Rosalie did not want to admit that she had been caught in a lie. A blow to her pride was what it had been and I hated to serve another hit but I disliked being dishonest with her. Even if she wished to be dishonest with me.

"I didn't come up here to think. I came up here to watch the moon." I didn't look at her, not even a glance, but I could feel her piercing stare.

"Why?" Long ago, I think she might have seen the beauty of the moon. I think too much time has passed in her existence for her to still appreciate that beauty. I might be mistaken though, maybe she never appreciated the moon. After all, time has not erased her appreciation of her own beauty.

"I had a talk with Carlisle that reminded me of the tradition. To be honest I do come up her frequently to think."

"What do you think about?" It was the question that I avoided asking her, now it was directed at me. This seemed unfair, but I provided a response anyway, for Emmett, my mind offered unprompted. Later I might try to realize why my mind needed reassurance that I might not be doing in just for her.

"A bit of everything, the future mainly. More so how my future has changed." The air around us altered. The tension, which had been ignored until this point, nearly burned, begging to be acknowledged. I denied it, pushing the feeling to the back of my mind to be ignored once more. It took effort, but I managed, too much practice being in tense situations I suppose.

"What did you plan on before?" Under any other circumstances, I do not believe the blonde would have pushed the conversation at me to dominate. As a defining characteristic, Rosalie was of the sort who enjoys speaking of themselves. Now was different, she had been thinking about something which she did not what me to know. True to the Slytherin roots which she didn't know where hers' she offered me the spotlight, so that I might forget about asking her similar questions.

I wouldn't have. For all the unfair angles of these circumstances it could be viewed that I was the outsider. If anyone should have to work to gain trust in this house, it should be I. By coming into this household I was in a way yielding to the fact the it's members had proven themselves to each other already. A trust that should and does satisfy me until I might find that same trust myself.

"I've thought a thousand futures, but never once planned for one, not until recently." I had started looking at her, as I though my thoughts on trust, but now my eyes shied away and again found the moon. She allowed me the time to think of my words, vampires truly are patient creatures. I did need that time, because it had been a while since I thought about a human future, it was something that had not been included in my writings. "Not many of those futures had much in common. Sometime I planned on following the paths that everyone had always thought I would. People were ready for me to take S.P.E.W. to higher levels. Others saw me taking on the ministry. At times I planed on proving them wrong and starting up my own practice as a wand maker, or studying Iara in Brazil. Guiltily, I thought of finding my perfect guy and getting married in an odd ceremony that we weren't sure was legal."

"No thoughts of children." I couldn't get a clear read on the emotion that laced her words, they were to odd a mix. I did peg this as her own reason for being on the roof. For the reason that it was on the forefront of her mind. She hadn't waited long enough into my silence because we had still been in the reasonable realm of just ordering my next thoughts.

The idea of her secluding herself to think of children did make sense. Rosalie hated the idea of being a vampire more then the others. I couldn't peg the reason before, internal youth and beauty were things that would appeal to her and might even be a fair trade for blood lust and ideas of being a monster. Children though were what vampires were robbed of.

"Have you read the journals?" There was no use elaborating on which journals I was speaking of. I heard the family talking of very little else when I was barricaded in my room. However, in my time of thinking about my words it had occurred to me that I had never hear Rosalie comment on my retellings.

She nodded in the manner of a noble and I wondered if I might be the same way in one of my possible futures.

"Then everything will be easier to explain. After my sister died I was reckless." The truth, after my dear Miriallia died I was in and out of the hospital countless times as the product of stupid stunts. Even with my mother's newly grown protectiveness, I would find new ways to be careless with my well being. I didn't snap out of that stage until well after the point which my medical file had become the size of a demanding textbook. "Some of the damage from those stunts stuck around. Not far into the parts of my journals which I haven't given up to the family, there was a small scale confrontation. We weren't ready for it, but a few of us had gone out to fight off the Death Eaters anyway. I had gotten blasted into the farm house and suffered from serve blunt force trauma. In the Wizarding world blunt force trauma is nothing to be concerned about, but with some of my old injuries it was bad. Even as a human I would never have the chance to have children."

"Did you want children?" Her voice was raw, more raw then I would assume an immortal voice could be.

"Not until I couldn't." My voice matched hers, this time I wasn't surprised.

She kissed my brow in a solid motion of protectiveness. The action was so singularly different from how she had presented herself during the entire time I have known her. However, in that action she was taking me under her wing. Rosalie was making me her own and promising me that she would be there to protect me and help me as a dear elder sister ideally should treat a favored kin. More then that, she was offering to take her role even further then that of a sister, willing, wanting even to play the role of my mother. I knew, not only in my mind but in my heart, that the emotion and promise ran both ways. We were linked, in more then just are inability to bear children, but by a forged understanding of each other, the understanding of parts of ourselves that we respectfully kept buried and out of the scope of others. Emmett was another link between us, a strong link on a growing chain. An irrevocable bond formed this night, with only the moon as the witness, Rosalie and I, women born on separate sides of our genders spectrum, made unspoken promises to each other.


	19. The Sketch

Third Life

The Sketch

Alice and Jasper's room was an interesting sight. To be honest, their room was actually a set of rooms. They had their bed chamber - Edward was the only one in the house who had chosen not to have a bed - a 'living' room, a bathroom and another room which displayed random objects they held affection for. These items included Alice's diaries.

Alice held the dominate personality in the décor. Jasper's own continuations were really only an afterthought. It seems that he doesn't mind; Jasper is completely comfortable allowing his wife to high jack the decorating. After all, such tasks make her happy.

I want that. The whole partnership thing. I never thought that I did before, not really anyway. I always viewed myself as having a distancing brand of self reliance. That probably won't change in the next few centuries.

"You're sad." My attentions snapped back to Jasper, back to the present.

"Sorry," I shrugged and stood up from where I had been sitting next to him on a sofa. "Just thinking." I scrunched my nose a little, because I used to.

"Want to talk about it?" He was serious, I know, but I laughed. The question was spoken so awkwardly, because as attuned to emotion as Jasper is, he is still a guy.

"Thank you, but no." He seemed a bit relieved. "What's this?" I asked, picking up a thick sketch pad off the side table. I really was looking to change the topic, but I was genuinely interested as well.

"A sketch pad of mine." He replied evenly, sitting still as stone. Even though I too am a vampire, the stillness really is quite unsettling at times.

"May I?" I asked motioning to the book and redirecting my thoughts. Jasper nodded.

I flipped through the pages lightly, taking in the detailed pencil drawings on each page. The theme seemed to be consistent; every picture was of an animal. Just from looking at this sample of his work, I can't help but assume that nothing is out of his grasp to capture. Alligator, elephant, anteater, wasp, rabbit, turtle, octopus, rhino, tiger, continuing on to hundreds more animals, each as remarkably life-like as the last. The details are amazing as the graphite and the sureness of his hand captured the movement of muscles and the texture of the skins, furs. Each depiction was breath taking. "I didn't know you were an artist." I felt almost guilty. I didn't let myself feel fully guilty because I was working on controlling my emotions more. A task intended to spare Jasper. I didn't need to tell him how amazing his work is. He knew already and he could read it on my face I was sure.

He looked pleased at my reaction. I'm assuming I masked my almost guilt well enough. "When you live forever you tend to take up a few hobbies."

"Hobbies?" I scoffed. "This could easily be a profession." My tone was light in all its mocking.

"Which it has been. I've lived as an artist many times and in many places. I will admit that it is a favored hobby of mine. Although, most of the time my career as an artist is limited to me selling off my work when too much of it accumulates." I laughed. He was a painter, too. That much was clear. I would have to take a more careful look at all the paintings in the house and see which ones had been of his doing.

"I'm impressed." I started flipping through the pages again.

"I have hundreds of books laying around. Most of them should be on the shelves above Alice's diaries. Take a look at them whenever you'd like." He offered, still pleased with my reaction. Maybe the novelty of his work had worn off for the other family members. I hope I am always able to appreciate it, no matter the amount of years which pass.

"I think I will." I would.

"My favorites are tattoo designs. To be honest I always wanted to design my own." I have a feeling that he hadn't confessed this to many. Or at least not recently. I hummed a quiet response to show I listened to what he said. It was a shame that he would never get that tattoo, as vampire's skin is too tough. There was something else in his voice, something hinting at the fact that he wanted to mark himself. Maybe to rid the marks others had left on his body. That was something I could understand. The same thought had floated through my mind as I had looked at the scars left on my body by my opponents' spells.

He continued. "You have a tattoo." He mentioned, thankfully not jealous. "Your book never said what it was of, only that you had acquired with Bill at a time when you were in Egypt." I didn't have my scars anymore. The transformation had removed those, because they hadn't been caused by vampires.

I smiled for no reason besides not knowing how to respond. "I do have a tattoo. It's nothing special. Just a small, crudely rendered thing with a bit of sentimental meaning." I was beyond glad that the venom had spared me the loss of my mark. It was more then enough payment for taking away the reminders of the war, which I had always protested magically removing. Remembering was sometimes a healthy path.

I only have two marks now. The black ink and the reflective, sparkling mark that Emmett left on the inside of my wrist. I was glad about the placement. The neck would seem more intimate; the wrist made me think that he was holding my hand the whole way through my transformation. I really think he did. At least my instincts told me so.

"May I see it?" I thought about it. Only because every action can have a negative outcome, and I've become used to monitoring my actions very carefully. War and becoming the ultimate predator can do that to a woman.

The location is a weird place for a tattoo of its meaning to be placed. A weirder place still to be displayed, but creating bonds with family isn't always comfortable. I lifted my shirt until it covered the majority of my bra, leaving only the bottom rim to be seen. Right below that rim, dead center, is a roughly done symbol in black. "What does it mean?"

"It's the symbol of Anubis, the Egyptian god of death. People believed that if they worshipped him, their loved ones might be protected in the afterlife."

"You placed it near your heart." His eyes did not wonder from the symbol.

"I did." I let my shirt fall down.

Thinking about its meaning now was a bit odd. A vampire, living after death, marked by the symbol of death's ruler. Myself, willingly branded as an act to protect those I love in death, only to live on after my own. I didn't want to think of it anymore.

"Art." I spoke sharply. Jasper rose his brow, but he understood.

"Art. I'm fond of it myself. Have you ever spent time drawing or painting?"

"No more than finger painting. Hogwarts really didn't have those types of classes, and I never really took up many hobbies besides learning and following my best friend into peril." I realized too late that I had missed an opportunity to shrug.

My brother rose and walked over to a cabinet. He took a book out that I was excited to look through. I was surprised not to find more of his work. "You should try." Jasper said as I flipped through the blank pages.

"Teach me?"

We spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the floor as he taught me the basics. We went through perception, shading, proportions, anatomy… He corrected me as he had me go through some more basic shapes and sketches. To be fair, I did find my work better than I thought it might be. Mainly because my vision gives me a better idea of proportion. I am still a novice though. My transformation didn't give me a perfect skill as it had given me a perfect image and superior hunting abilities. For this, I was glad.

I don't want to be good at everything. I don't think a person should be. I think people should strive for perfecting themselves but still not find defection in their faults. Besides, our faults are ultimately what we are defined by. I also have eternity. I love to learn and if I lived for eternity without having anything left to learn, then my family would soon learn to hate me. I think I would hate myself too.

I was drawing Jasper now, building off of the grid of a head that we had made together. I was now drawing without him looking over my shoulder. I didn't want to disappoint, but I don't think I would mind much if I did. The failure might give me a knock-off shred of humanity.


	20. The Trust

Third Life

Chapter: The Trust

* * *

_Dear George,_

_I'm glad to hear about the success of the store. From what you have been telling me, it sounds like the business is really flourishing. I bet that Lee will do a great job managing the new branch. I'd tell you to give him a hug for me and just not tell him it is from me, but I think you might object to that. Actually, I think that you might actually be willing to do so with enthusiasm. Consider it for me, alright?_

_I'm not sure how I feel about you planning a surprise for me. Especially, not when you say that you have been developing it during the past months. Regardless, I will eagerly await said surprise and hope that I am incorrect in my assumption that you plan to prank me. George, love, you know you don't want to prank me. I have pointy teeth now that can be quite dangerous, should I feel the need to enact revenge. Take that as a warning. _

_As far as how I've been, I've been doing well. I got into a bit of a blown out of proportion row, with Edward, but that has since been resolved. I was the one that elevated the severity of the row as it was. He looks much like I would think a young Riddle might have appeared. Furthermore, the air with which he carries himself in is strikingly like what we have heard of Tom. I know that it is unfair of me, especially because I do like Edward, but, the combination just puts me on edge much more than I would like. _

_I did test my wand; no go. I am thinking that I might have a chance if I treat myself like a witch before wands. I've come to terms with it, so don't grieve on my behalf. _

_With Love, _

_Jane. _

George had been happy, excited and relived at my last letter. Not for a moment had he degraded me because of what I am. Nor did he shower me with questions. His response had been like any other of the letters we had sent each other in the past, and for that I am grateful. But writing a letter in response had made me remember another similar experience. I sat for four hours recalling a memory, after which I sent off my reply with George's business owl.

I remembered the exact wording of the letter I had sent Severus. Over and over again, I had recited the letter in my mind. Each time, I found something I would have liked to word differently. Each time, I questioned if I really should have sent it. Each time, I volleyed my emotions back and forth until I remembered Jasper and forced myself not to dwell.

The thoughts of Jasper were helpful ones, because I shouldn't be dwelling on the matter. I had sent the letter. I couldn't change that now. Furthermore, there would be no reply and it was important for me to move on. The letter had been a way to tie up lose ends, and with an end tied, there was nothing left to do but to move on.

I opened up my laptop and typed in my password, 8htgh53, not that anyone in this house would actually be stopped by a password if they wanted to get into my computer. No, anyone in this house could easily work around a password, but there was still no need to not have one. At least that was how I saw it when I had made my choice. Now, I needed to get my mind off of that letter, and one of the only ways I can completely occupy my mind is to go book shopping. A completely consuming activity, and one that I love.

I have several sites already bookmarked, and thankfully Edward had hooked my computer up to the inventory of the books stocked in our library. Therefore, I could type a title of a book into a search engine and know if the book I wanted was already in the house or if I should order it. Originally, the records were only housed in the library and were dearly needed for the others to understand the organization method of Carlisle. Carlisle despises the Dewey Decimal System. Now familiar with his system, I think he has the right idea of things.

The first book I found was a first edition Tuesdays with Morrie, signed by the author. The Cullen library did have a copy of the book, but the price for the first edition, signed copy, was a steal. I bought it before the independent seller knew what they were selling. I was looking forward to rereading the book.

The second book I bought was not in our collection. The book was also one that I had always planned on reading but had never gotten around to. The book was The Magic of Oz and it, too, was a first edition.

I was planning on browsing more, but an owl was approaching the house. This would be weird, had it not been a Wizarding owl. After all, animals don't come near us on their own accord. We don't even get vermin or insects in the house because their instincts are honed enough to stay away. This should make me feel lonely, but instead I just find myself relieved that I wont have to deal with any more rats.

I walked to the window and was surprised to see the strong eagle owl approaching. This bird was Mercury, Severus's owl. His own familiar, who he was very fond of.

"Mercury," I greeted, but I did not reach out to touch the owl as I normally would. "What is Severus thinking, sending you?" I scarcely thought that Severus would reply, never mind send his own familiar. He knows now how dangerous I am. He is not foolish enough to do so without thinking, meaning he did so purposely. He trusted me. Probably much more than the people in this house do.

Apparently, Mercury trusts me as well. I didn't dare approach the owl, but the owl approached me, easily and willingly hopping onto my shoulder. I stroked the bird affectionately, remembering all of the times the bird attacked Order members. Mercury only ever liked Severus and I.

"Thank you, love." I wasn't just referring to the act of delivering the letter.

His trust, both of their trust, was not misplaced. Mercury smelled appealing, I could be honest about that. I was also telling the truth when I admitted that I held no desire to drink the animal's blood. My control was well developed enough. Even more so controlled because I hold so much affection for both the owl and the owner.

I unrolled the scroll, having to apply absolutely no force to release the parchment from the Potion Master's wax seal.

The message was short, _What do you need?_

Under normal circumstances, I might think that the words meant he thought my last letter was an attempt to get something from him. The fact that he had sent Mercury spoke a different tale. My only conclusions were that he wanted to help, and that he wanted to stay in touch.

I couldn't let that happen. The situation wasn't fair, but the truth was it really was his decision.

_I don't need you to do anything for me. That was not what the letter was about._ I wrote. If he replied back, I would allow correspondence. That would be the only indication that he wanted to create a relationship, and was not doing so out of a sense of responsibility or duty.

"Mercury, I am going to leave this on the desk. I want you to take a break before you head back to Severus. There should be plenty for you to hunt in the forest, but I don't have any treats for you. I'll pick some up in case you come back." He hooted. He understood not only what I was saying, but the emotions in my voice. His ability to understand was why he worked well as Severus's familiar. Mercury took off into the forest, and I was extremely glad I had the entire family promise not to hunt owls. Ever.

Now all that was left to do was wait.

I had to keep busy. I decided on going to find Emmett to talk for a while. When I found him he was watching television in his room. The television was turned on Spike and he was watching a C.S.I. marathon. I had never seen the show, but I recognized the characters from some commercials.

"This is the miniature killer arc. The team is investigating the crimes of a serial killer who makes to scale replicas of their crime scenes." I watched the show with interest. I was more interested in the science, but the interaction of the characters did interest me to a degree.

I learned quickly that I liked Greg the most out of the characters. Emmett told me that he used to work only in the lab but went into field work later. This disappointed me. I think I would find the lab work more interesting.

I was properly and sufficiently distracted.


	21. The Tears

Third Life

The Tears

* * *

I was thankful that I no longer possessed the ability to cry. Had I still retained that ability, my drawing would have been ruined.

I hadn't set out to create a particular person. I was still in the basic stages of learning and I felt like I would offend fewer people and memories if I were drawing and creating people I had never seen before. My mind had wandered, and by the time I realized whose image I was sketching, it was too late to change. Distinctive features were present on the paper, and not many people had lightning bolts on their forehead hidden by a messy mop of hair.

My pencil was on the floor. I had dropped it with my realization, and I had left it there as I stared at the partially completed sketch.

I couldn't just abandon the depiction of my Harry. However, I wasn't positive that I wanted to continue drawing it, either. This could make it so easy to sink back into depression. Edward was the resident depressed vampire, and I wouldn't want to take that away from him.

I debated with myself for over a hour. The task could be a good one for me; a positive and constructive way to remember. I would remember, I decided. I would continue the picture. I just needed a small break, is all.

I left my room in a rush, just wandering aimlessly. Somehow, I ended up passing Alice's studio, and she called me in.

The studio was Alice in the form of a room. The colors were bold, nearly random, and worked absolutely perfectly together. She had several tables each covered with magnitudes of fabrics. The walls were lined in colored cork boards, which were filled with pallets of color swatches and designs. I counted twelve manikins each wearing Alice's current work in progresses. Once, during the initial tour, I had been shown the closet, which is filled with various finished projects of hers. I think just about every closet in the house is filled with her designs.

Alice smiled widely, because like always she knew what was going on, but this time she pretended she didn't know. "Want me to teach you how to make clothes?"

"Maybe later." I really didn't care to learn, but I would let her teach me later. She would know this too, since I had already decided. The only reason I would let her is because I think she is a bit jealous that Emmett has gotten to teach me to hunt, and Rosalie has taught me about cars, and Jasper has been teaching me how to draw. I would let her mold me as well. That is what siblings are meant to do. A pang, sharp and powerfully grief laced filled my body. Another memory. This time, it was of Mary.

She smiled, and continued working on her current project. The dress on the manikin in front of her was a simple, but beautiful cream colored, silk dress. Alice made her work look effortless. To her, it just might be.

Alice let me sit on a spare stool, and just watch her as she worked. The silent company was welcome. I sat that way for a while before she suggested I do some reading. Her idea had merit, and I was about to go looking in the library when she offered me a book. Her abilities really allowed her to look out and provide for people, and she enjoyed doing it so that I didn't feel bad. The book she had handed me was an early copy of Hemmingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls. 

I lost myself in the book. The perfect distraction for me has always been and will always be reading. More importantly, Alice was as happy with the arrangement as I. As a people person, Alice hates to be alone. She enjoys talking, and loves taking part in group activities, but if she gets to be in the presence of someone else as she works, even in silence, it is a welcome improvement to her day.

I was done with the book before we said anything, and the position of the sun out of the window told me that a good amount of time had passed. Alice had moved on to a new dress. Her other one, now finished, had been moved to the side of the room.

She looked at me and grinned. "Did you like your book?" She was buttering me up, and I did not like where this was going.

"Yes." I answered slowly. Not all of us see into the future, nor do we want to.

My sister didn't ask for an elaboration, because that was not what she was interested in, "Good, now try on the dress."

I did like the dress. Alice has a skill with fabric that I never fail to appreciate. However, that did not change the fact that I am not a huge fan of clothes. I'm happy in jeans and a jumper. As much as I would prefer that she not make clothes for me, it makes her happy and I wasn't about to make someone unhappy over such a little matter.

Three, two, one, and Rosalie arrived at the door. Like Alice dressing me up was a favored past time of hers as well.

I rolled my eyes - a bad habit that I had picked up from Ginny. A bad habit which I now fight to restrain, and use in a manner of a normal teenager. Turning away from the pair of them was the only amount of modesty that I needed. I had changed in front of roommates plenty of times. Also, backpacking with the boys when splitting up would be dangerous had rid me off all traces of modesty that had remained at the time.

The dress slid over my head easily, and fit me like a glove, as we all knew it would. Regardless, I was twirled, examined, cooed at and poked by my dear, loving, manipulative, girly sisters.

These acts confirmed what I had already known, but had needed reminding of. I have a home, and a family here, and I was creating a life for myself with the help of those who love me. This security made me want to remember what I had. Not in a negative way, but in a positive way, which was what my drawing could do for me.

Still in the dress Alice had made for me, I left my sisters in Alice's studio without saying a word. This didn't seem to bother either of them even the slightest. Nor did it seem to surprise Alice. Her grand plan had played out before her as she had known it would.

My sketch pad was exactly where I had left it, and I breathed deep, unneeded breaths of relief. I was ready to go back to my drawing now. The picture of Harry staring back at me didn't sting as much as it had. The vision of my lost best friend almost made me happy, and I let the corners of my mouth rise. I was more careful now, as I made new marks on the page. I erased errors more carefully, and I tried my hardest to perfect each detail.

The feature I focused the least on was the scar. While that part of his appearance was the most important and defining in the opinion of many in the Wizarding world, it meant little to me. More accurately, it meant nothing to me. I focused the most on his eyes. They were the only part of the page that I added color to. I spent two hours on his eyes. Infusing all of the emotions that I could into those green orbs; the green orbs that I had stared into so many dear, cherished times.


	22. The Practice

Third Life

The Practice

__________________________________________________________________________________

Who in their right mind would assume that acting human would prove to be so bloody difficult! For seventeen years these motions, which I now practice, had been natural and effortless. Currently, I am made to sit across from Carlisle and practice how to fidget. If anything this entire ordeal is positively humiliating.

Of course, we have spent time in the past learning what I have started to refer to as human traits. I know perfectly well what moments I need to act out. I even do so around the house at odd times, when a stray though reminds me to. Now, we have moved on to practicing, not just learning the motions.

In a weeks time I will be starting at Forks High School. Entering into the school system in late November is really only another way to gain attention. However, I had needed these last two months to situate myself and to prove that the proximity to humans will not make me go on a rampage and rob the town of their adolescence.

I don't feel as if I have only been here for an transitional two months. Instead I feel as if I have been here for years, maybe even a lifetime. Which is probably for the best, perhaps I can fool myself into believing that my control is not so recently cultivated.

"Hermione, you need to still move when you are distracted." Ah, the actual lesson, I had forgotten. What Carlisle has been doing, letting me sit for hours in silence, allowing me to lose myself in thought. What I was supposed to be doing is still using all of the human behavior I had been taught , even as I let my thoughts wander.

I know when to cross and uncross my legs. I've been taught how to fake a yawn and a stretch. Cracking my knuckles and biting my lip come to me more naturally then the other motions. Maybe because I remember doing such before. Rosalie favors playing with her hair and Carlisle tells me I can do so just as well. Tapping my foot is a pain in the arse, but I suffer through it at times to please Carlisle and to prove my progress. Blinking proved to be the most difficult to recreate in the beginning. Now, hours and hours of practice accumulated later, blinking is truly the only human trait I do not have to actively think about imitating. Breathing is coming close but still I need to mildly think about the action in order for my body to act.

Carlisle had been right, being distracted had caused all of my actions to stop besides blinking and breathing. The breathing without thinking was an improvement which only showed up sometimes. I started to play with my hair and dived back into thoughts. Even undead, my mind remains my haven.

Edward disagrees with breathing being one of the more annoying human traits we need to adopt. He believes not breathing is uncomfortable and that not tasting air is unpleasant. I think that where my hearing is superior, my taste is dulled because not breathing doesn't bother me at all.

I started chewing my lip and let my hair fall out of my touch. I made my fingers lightly beat on the island of the kitchen. I am sitting on the barstool and feared less for the granite then I did generally for wooden surfaces.

I never told the family about my dulled taste or by heightened hearing. I never really even thought of it for more then a few seconds. I decided to continue with that plan.

Carlisle was doing some paperwork for his job at the hospital. The act of filling out the charts and reading over the work made him look so human that it wasn't hard to realize why he was the most approachable of the family. Normally, I don't get to see this side of him. When Carlisle works he always takes up in his office and none of us like to bother him. But for our lessons he has been doing his work in the kitchen. Much less of a risk then one might think when considering a kitchen, seeing as this kitchen has never played host to food. I miss food.

I stopped tapping, uncrossed my legs and made my eyes move idly around the room.

I had been here for my Birthday. Jasper and Edward had been the only ones to know and mercifully they had kept the information to themselves. My birthday had fallen on the days when I was secluded to my rooms and they left me to that. I had thanked them later and been surprised when they had slipped me gifts.

Jasper had gifted me with several baseball uniforms and the promise that he would teach me how to play the pastime the vampire way. Since, I have wandered out of my room, Jasper has also painted an entire wall in the image of a bamboo forest which looks absolutely brilliant. More importantly, the painting looks real and endless.

Edward had gotten me a lovely ring which I have worn each day since. The ring is made out of gold and the band wraps around to form a leaf, next to the leaf, a flower is formed by a pink tinted metal creating petals around a small pearl. I adore it.

I stopped my eyes from wandering and sat still for a few moments, thinking on how to look human now. I started French braiding my hair.

I had never been a big jewelry person, but from the looks of things I am starting to be. Between the jewelry that Remus had sent, Edward's gift and my own online shopping I am well on my way to becoming a jewelry junkie. I suppose that it was time that I started to accumulate more then books. That is not to say that my online shopping has not included much more than a few books.

I ran my hands through my hair letting out the braid I had just finished and started to run my fingers over my mothers cross.

I wanted to talk with Carlisle. Five hours in silence really is to much. Even with newly increased patience. This was our twenty second lesson and he had laid down the rules during the first, no talking. Blessedly, most of those lessons had not lasted quite this long.

I took my hand away from the cross and started running them over the top side of my nails. They were colored a natural pink color, a compromise between Rosalie and I.

This really is a bit ridiculous, if I ever was sitting in silence I would have a book with me. Turning pages is a perfectly reasonably indication of human nature and certainly supplies movement. Not for the first time I promised myself I would never subject myself to the human institution of learning without fresh new reading material.

I glanced at the clock, fifteen minute more to go before someone would come in and save me. My guess would be Alice, she had been flittering around the outskirts of the kitchen for the past dozen minutes.

Carlisle looked at me again and I gave a false smile and crossed my legs.

He really should have allowed me to have a book.

I moved on the barstool as if getting into a more comfortable position and made it look like my posture was less the perfect.

Emmett and Jasper are taking me out to learn how to play baseball tonight. Just as Jasper had promised. They also are going to teach me how to 'fake it' in gym and I wasn't looking forward to that at all. Although, I feel safe assuming that such an event would be more entertaining then this.

Alice entered on what I realized was just the right time and perched on the stool next to my own. Carlisle pretended he wasn't paying attention and Alice pretended he wasn't there.

A magazine was place right in front of me on the counter and a pen was produced from Alice's hand which wasn't in my line of sight before.

"Rosalie and I already went through and filled out what we wanted on the order sheet. It's your turn now, you have about an hour, that's when Esme is heading out to do grocery shopping." Esme went food shopping every two weeks to keep up appearances. The food was always brought out to one of the various soup kitchens or shelters that all knew the Cullen name. But Esme's volunteer work really did go further then getting rid of the food we wouldn't eat, she did a lot in the local community. Bless her.

I really don't need clothes, especially from the high end magazine that was offered to me. Chances are I would never end up wearing a forth of what accumulated in my closet during the time I had still been in the process of being turned. Which was exactly why I started flipping through the pages. Emmett had been right when he told me that I should get around to picking out my own clothes.

Alice provided me with all of my sizes as she looked over my shoulder. I was grateful that she didn't comment on my choices of plain looking clothing. The sweaters I chose were normal solid colors, cream, eggplant, royal blue, forest green. And the pants I chose looked at least a bit less high end then the ones that graced my closet.

Idly, I wondered if I looked as human as Carlisle as I picked out clothing and filled out the order sheet.


	23. The Game

Third Life

The Game

* * *

Baseball isn't just the American past time, baseball is a fundamental element of being part of our family. Ever since I had been turned, I have received multiple promises of being taught how to play. However, with a magnitude of other events and learning experiences that come with being a recently turned vampire and the limitations of the weather, tonight had been my first opportunity. That is to say that I haven't read eleven books with topics centered around the sport.

The initial plan had been for Emmett and Jasper to take me out during the first thunderstorm. I had been surprised when I had learned that the teaching crew would be limited to only two of the family. However, thinking about it, I appreciated the thought. I have been consistently worried that I will end up make a fool out of myself when the time came for me to actually learn. I really should thank Alice for her consideration. Anyway, that had been the initial plan.

The edited plan was for Emmett and Edward to teach me. This change was the byproduct of Jasper being otherwise occupied on the night the thunderstorm had hit.

The family hadn't indicated any desire to inform me where Jasper had to go. Regardless, I had a pretty good idea. In two days I am starting school and reasonably it would be a smart idea to have a back up plan incase I end up killing someone and we have to flee. Jasper is the one in charge of bank accounts and identities. That is where he would be this night. I didn't mention what conclusion I had come to and I was careful to make no plans of ever alerting the family that I knew.

I didn't forge my disappointment concerning Jasper's absence, but I didn't drag it out to long either.

Emmett, Edward and I took off in the direction of the field before the first clap of thunder sounded. I knew exactly where we were going. Emmett had taken me out that way during one of our runs and had commented on it being their field. What I didn't know was the directions to the field. When we had been there in the past we had always come in from a different direction.

Not knowing the way really didn't bother me. I was more then content to let them lead as I just enjoyed the run. I do dearly love to run. I have taken many opportunities to do so in the recent past but the thrill and release of endorphins still comes as a desired experience. Unfortunately, even coming out this far in the woods wasn't really much of a run. Much too soon we had arrived and Emmett was dumping the sports equipment onto the grass.

The first obstacle we needed to conquer was getting me to understand how to play the game. With my highly honed ability to take in process and retain information, this task was surprisingly simply. Even more so with the studying I had done and regardless of the fact that I have always considered myself oblivious to sports. Emmett seemed just as pleased as I that I understood quickly and easily. Therefore, we could easily move into the physical practice of the game.

Edward had come back from mapping out the bases, a task he had taken longer to accomplice then he actually needed. Now, the trick was to teach me how to swing the bat properly and preferably get me to hit the ball. I wouldn't have had the patience to teach someone like myself and I was glad to be on my end of the student-teachers relationship.

I was hitting, Emmett was pitching and Edward was catching. The formation seemed fine for a while. I missed more pitches then not but occasionally I could hit the ball and actually make Edward have to run to catch it. Even if I had no control over where I was hitting the ball too, I was still pleased to sometimes be hitting the ball.

However, all good things must come to an end. When I was getting somewhat better, I was still horrendous. Somehow, my swing had turned into me hitting Edward over the head with the baseball bat. I haven't the foggiest idea how I managed this, especially because Edward was placed so far away from me. However, losing my grip on the bat has somehow ended up with Edward pretending he wasn't in pain. No word would ever properly convey just how much of a failure I felt at being a sister in that moment.

Not too long ago, I had scorned and cussed at my foresaw healing abilities. I had claimed with a passionate speech and shaky words that I wanted nothing to do with the ability. I still don't want it. Even now with Edward in pain, I would give the power back in a heart beat. This thought only serves to make me feel more like a failure. I should like the healing factor if only a little. If only just to rectify the pain I caused him. But, A head wound to a vampire would do no damage. Very little can do damage to a vampire, my powers are simply unnecessary. I still wish at times for some residual venom to change it's mind and take the stupid power away. But, that wouldn't happen. I was stuck for the rest of eternity with these powers.

I had spent a good deal of time making myself numb to the thoughts of my ability. One didn't get hurt if one didn't care. To some degree, I think I might have managed. I no longer cringed when I realized that the ability rested under the surface of my finger tips. But, I was set to ignore the ability for all of time and to jump on any opportunity to get rid of it.

With Edward in pain in front of me, I will admit reluctantly that the ability wasn't the worst thing in the world. I rested my hand on his head for a few seconds until all was well and he was feeling no pain. I still didn't want the ability. Whatever gave me the cruel gift could take it back. I would even forge a receipt if they asked me too, I could have Jasper teach me how. Regardless of what I would do in those situations, I didn't think they would be coming. Until that chance came, I could be okay with ignoring the ability unless my family needed me not to.

Emmett was grinning at the fact I had managed to hit Edward in the head in the first place. By the look on Edwards face, Emmett's thoughts ran along similar lines. I let out a chuckle of my own, secure in my knowledge that I had corrected any damage I had inflicted upon Edward.

"Well?" Emmett asked when he had stopped laughing. I had stopped laughing before him and had simply observed Edward sulk. I knew though that Edward was not upset with me. When Emmett hadn't been looking, Edward had even gently squeezed my hand to let me know this. He had also cut off any further apologies from me.

"Hmm?" I mumbled. I had picked up the bat again and was holding it loosely. The fact that this ordinary object had turned on me and became a weapon was of no concern. I could deal and manage with weapons nicely. I had done so in the past. I have been such in the past as well. Hell, everything about me now dubs me a skillful weapon.

"Your powers, how did it feel." Emmett looked hopeful and I wanted to tell him it felt fulfilling. Maybe if he were anyone else looking at me with that look I could tell him it felt pleasant, warm. The truth was it hadn't felt like anything.

"I could see it." I decided on. This didn't answer his question, but it was the truth and close enough to distract him. "Didn't even really look like much, just a mild silver luminance."

Edward looked more interested in this then Emmett. Emmett wanted to get back to the game. I grinned back to my favored brother, I wanted to get back to the game as well, if only to please him. "Why do you think that is?" Edward asked, throwing the ball back and forth with Emmett. His attention was completely on me.

"I would assume that it is a method of securing our existence as that of discreet." I replied, mostly unconcerned and also assuming that his question was asking why I saw it when they and presumably humans do not.

We didn't take long before trying me at bat again. I missed a few times and the first time I got a piece of the ball this time, it was a very disappointing sight. However, my ability to learn quickly remained and as the night went on my skill at the game grew.

We hung around the field for hours, throwing, hitting, running and just goofing off. I was learning the game and the sooner we got home the sooner I would have to learn how to fake gym. I didn't want that, therefore, we procrastinated. I do dearly love my brothers.


	24. The Identity

Third Life

The Identity

When Edward, Emmett and I had finally got home, I had somehow convinced myself that learning how to mimic the athletic abilities of an average teenage girl, might not be so terrible. That is not to say that I did not plan to put off such a task for as long as possible. For this, I blame Carlisle. When I had first been told that I would need to learn how to act the part of a girl with average physical attributes I had been interested. Curious even at what new insight I might gain into the differences which existed between being a human and being a vampire. Carlisle had beaten that curiosity right out of me with his hours of lessons.

Jasper was home, he was my target. He would be the way I managed to prolong my state of contentment. I sat next to him on the couch, careful not to let any of my gleefulness leak out. I could not be sure if my plan would work or not, but I did know that if Jasper managed to detect my emotions for what they are, he would know I am up to something. I think he did detect them, at least a little.

"How did it go?" He asked the group of us but his eyes were locked on me.

I smiled, here I had the ability to mask my excitement under the pretence that it was there for another reason. "I hit Edward over the head with a baseball bat." I told him in absolute seriousness.

Unfortunately, he wasn't fooled, I beat down the glee a bit more. "Your planning on procrastinating." Jasper concluded as Emmett laughed. Rose, who had slid into the room just after we had entered was the only one who seemed to think that I would actually manage. I was pleased with her confidence in my abilities.

"Absolutely." Rosalie rose an eyebrow but she was still on my side. She always would be and dear Merlin I do love that woman.

"And how do you plan on accomplishing that?" This was Edward and only because he is sensitive to not knowing how and why people do what they do, I decided not to tell him that currently I and succeeding and he one of my enablers.

"Oh, I have a highly workable plan." I spoke with my mocking sage wisdom, but I was telling the truth.

"And?" Now Emmett was curious as he looped his arms around Rosalie. I smiled at him, but that question had been meant to be Jaspers.

"And what?" I asked innocently twirling my hair in a way that Rosalie had helped me correct. Now she was completely on my side, grinning the grin I was hiding.

"And how will you manage." This time it was Jasper. Good, it was about time.

In a way it did sort of worry me that none of them seemed to be realizing that they were all helping me procrastinate. That, or they were all pretending that they weren't helping me. Either way, the plan must move forward, "Easy, I am going to listen as Jasper tells us all about our back up identities." I smiled. Everyone else in the room froze and looked at me with worried, concerned faces. They were waiting for a reaction like I had given Edward after he repeatedly invaded my privacy. I smiled at them again.

This one I understood though. Before it had felt like they doubted my ability to control myself and before I had wanted to be angry. This time I am clearly aware of the fact that this had very little to do with me. There was little doubt in my mind that they had a back up plan set up for themselves before I crashed into their lives. The fact that they needed a new one because I was here was reasonable and I had been waiting for it. They had even taken longer to do so then I had expected.

I kept my eyebrows raised in question. Jasper was the only one who wasn't still looking at me like I was going to throw him through a wall. "Carlisle and Esme Nolan are the legal guardians of the group of us. Alice Murphy is the sister of Esme who moved in with Esme when their parents passed. Rosalie and I are the niece and nephew with a year separating us on Carlisle's side. The other three of you were adopted as a group, Esme had refused to separate siblings. Emmett would be the elder brother of twins Edward and Hermione Cavanaugh."

"Rosalie Nolan," she sniffed as her nose rose in the air, "what a positively horrid name."

Emmett squeezed her tight, whispering words in her ear which I wished that I had not heard. Cringing, I elbowed Edward in his ribs, "Well, twin when do you want to practice finishing each other's sentences?"

Edward let out a brief laugh, "let's deal with gym class first." Damn, Edward had know. I stuck out my tongue channeling the main example I knew of a being a twin.

"Hey, that is my little sister you are being mean to little brother!" Emmett teased moving across the room quickly to tug me into a protective embrace. I had to laugh again, because not only was this amusing but he was still on my side in procrastinating the task of human sports. Rosalie watched us fondly which in itself amazed Edward, but I didn't worry about what she was thinking, because things between us girls are perfectly okay.

We got off track, or rather Emmett, Rosalie and I had sufficiently distracted the other two enough with our antics that they had completely forgotten about teaching me how to fake gym. Rosalie and I danced to a blaring, to our standards, stereo. We had even managed to get the boys to dance with us for certain songs. In one twisted version of catch, I ended up being the ball as I was tossed from vampire to vampire. After I was saved by my sister in law, things turned to me hearing some of the more embarrassing stories of my new family. I was happy, joyful, content, loved and in bliss.

Then Carlisle came home, and like a true father would, he sent us off to manage our task. Strangely, this made me feel the same emotions that I had been experience before his arrival. Rosalie and Edward were the ones that ended up teaching me. Rosalie went to get some sports equipment from an odd storage closet on the second floor. Edward lead me into a portion of the yard that was a good distance from the house.

The three of us spent a long while practicing in the yard. The activity was maddeningly boring however, once I got the hang of putting absolutely no force in my badminton swing, Edward allowed us to talk as I continued to play a one on one game with Rosalie. We had to make sure I had a grip on things. This continued as we moved through each sport. Each sport but soccer. I refuse to play soccer.


	25. The Hunting

**Third Life**

**The Hunting: **

Ever since the means of communication between George and I had been secured, he has been asking me questions about my new species. He hasn't asked me in a annoying way or even in a hurtful way. George is simply curious and genuinely interested. One of the things he has been most eager to understand concerns the subject of hunting. This also happens to be the one question of his which I have avoided for my past several letters. Now, after receiving a particularly sweet and reassuring letter from him, I knew it was time for me to explain. Luckily, writing has always been my preferred method of admitting whatever I wished not to admit.

_Dear Mr. George Weasley,_

_The Fabulous,_

_I still am not sure if this is something I entirely want you to understand. The thoughts I have on the matter of hunting and the feelings I feel are extremely personal. However, I know that when curiosity killed the cat, I share the illness. I will confided completely in only you my experience in the matter. You deserve to know. I only hope that my words might not change your views on my new way of life. _

_Up until this point you have been nothing but supportive and entirely understanding. Now, with my thoughts racing with what to tell you, I will move on to the initial matter. Just forgive me for my words possibly appearing as thoughts, this might be the only method of which I can entirely explain. _

_Hunting with Alice is an entirely different experience then hunting with Emmett. With Emmett the experience is all about letting go, dominating and belittling the pray. We attack with violence and take thrill in being the ultimate hunters. With Alice the excitement is the challenge. Our clothing remains crisp and clean, our attacks sharp and precise. Instead of combating with our prey we stalk and play a game of cat and mouse. Both methods of gathering and savoring our feed are enjoyable. The company's preference is the deciding factor in my own performance, as I tend to seep in some of their preference as we hunt in close proximity. _

_I dislike hunting with Carlisle and Jasper. I have always favored myself an animal lover. I had even been a vegetarian for a time, due to the fact I hadn't wanted animals killed for me to eat. Especially, when I was just as able to live off of vegetables and other foods. Foods which had not once had eyes and thoughts. I have kept the thought that I was an animal lover, until I was turned, to myself. In my turned state I have come to terms with the fact that I would choose to kill animals over humans without a second thought. _

_Then I went hunting, I killed animals without hesitation and I found enjoyment in my actions. The first time I went hunting with Carlisle, I witnessed his hesitation. Even after hundreds of years of taking the lives and blood of animals, he still didn't want to. Carlisle found no enjoyment in hunting. Only the need to survive and to retain control drew him to the hunt. I was ashamed that my love for creatures and animals, for their very life, had so easily been drowned out for my own pleasure. _

_Jasper was also one whom I dislike going hunting with. I feel incredibly selfish for this preference, but I hate watching him hunt. Feeling the emotions of the prey is hard on him. He doesn't just see the fear in their eyes like the rest of us. He feels the fear and because the emotions of the prey are always so raw and immense, he feels that fear, first hand, in the depths of his very bones. The thing is, Jasper is so incredibly dedicated to Alice and this way of life that he literally fights with himself to not only drink his fill, but saturate his body with as much blood as he can manage. He sees every drop of crimson as control and he has to suffer through the emotions of his greed for those drops and the suffering fear and pain his prey shares with him. I hate seeing this and if my presence helped him in anyway I would gladly stand by his side every time he hunted. However, my existence in the woods as he hunts does nothing more then inflict more conflicting emotions on him. The best thing for both of us, is for us to not share hunting trips. _

_Hunting with Esme is a mixture of boring and humiliating. I can't allow myself the liberation of the complete lack of control in her presence. I care to deeply of what she thinks of me. For that reason. I retain too much of human thought. She enjoys hunting mildly, but would forgo the task if she could. As a result, her hunting effort is nearly similar to her husbands, only for the drink. When I went about the task with her, my thoughts reflected human disgust. I became ashamed of the creature I had become. These were the only moments which I could bring myself to agree with Edward's assessment of vampires being nothing more then monsters. _

_Edward is a pleasure to hunt with. He is a mix of the hunting styles of both Emmett and Alice. The best hunting team is Edward, Rosalie and myself. Both of them love stalking the prey. Rosalie a bit more then Edward, and both of them like to tear apart their pray. The feeling which fills me as I hunt with this pair is a magnificent, overflowing, feeling of being a type of hunting royalty. In life I had never dreamed or desired to be an elite or royal, but hunting with them, it feels like I have found my rightful place. The feeling of being in the right place at the right time and feeling like that is were I absolutely should be at that particular time in existence, is perfection. For so long, I have felt no stability and only experience floating and displacement. They give a place, and hunting with them is when my placement feels the most absolutely right. _

_I can only hope, that you might think of me as you had before my confessions. _

_With affection, _

_Pawreed._

Before I could change my mind, I folded the paper harshly and shoved it into the compartment that would bring it to a surviving twin on the other side of the ocean. However, shoving the paper away was not enough and I hastily exited my room to explore the house.

I had found the craft supply closet room by mistake one night. I had just been exploring when I had found the place that had been only briefly mentioned to me before. Everything that could possibly be needed for school projects or our own endeavors, could be found in the mild sized room. Most likely, so there would not be many outings to the craft store. Here is where I had found the yarn and knitting needles.

I had taken my looted supplies into the west facing den. From what I could tell, I was the only one who cared to come into this particular room. This suited me just fine, as I had grown quite fond of the little out of the way room.

My transformation had made my hands steady. Therefore, my knitting was more even and well spaced. Although, my end results still have yet to turn out to be that which I had set out to create. This is just fine, better than fine actually. I savor the idea of not being good at something. I hadn't been good at flying, which had been great. Now I didn't have flying to not be good at, but I still had my horrid knitting skills. I found comfort with this thought.

* * *


	26. The Sin

Third Life

Chapter: The Sin

* * *

"Hermione," Esme called knocking lightly on my door. With soft grace she let herself in before continuing to speak, "Carlisle wanted to know if you would meet him in his office." I smiled at her and nodded. I got up from my place at the desk, careful to lift myself without using any strength for leverage, and followed Esme to Carlisle's office. I had known the way well enough but I've never had any objections to Esme's presence.

Esme is always so poised and graceful. I know I am now as every bit as grateful as she. However, I feel false in my skin and Esme remains the calm, collected and loving women whom I aspire to be. Some may find this a fault in the older woman. That she is something above them, that they could never hope to be. I do believe that I will never become a person of equal standing with Esme. However, I do not fault her this. No, instead I find myself just searching for ways to better fit someone worthy of her image. A peaceful, nearly pacifistic life sounds just heavenly after all that I have been through and encountered.

I still feel my temper flare at time. This scares me more than anything that has arisen since my transformation. Jasper tells me that I have a control over my emotions unlike any he has ever seen before. I don't think this is true and to be honest I would like the chance to introduce him to some Slytherins. I even have a few in mind, even if their likeness is blurry in my memories. I do wish that I had spent more time physically describing some the people that I had written about. I hadn't thought of it at the time.

I worry sometimes, about what would ever happen should my temper get the best of me when I am outside the circle of family. Emmett promises that Alice would see any problems coming with plenty of warning. He promises that if a day for me to fear ever comes, that he will be beside me, no matter the circumstances and no matter the danger. I believe him.

I know that my brothers do not lie to me. I trust my family, unconditionally and more so than I ever remember trusting anyone else. The fear however does not leave me. I would be trying to fool myself if I did not acknowledge the rash, passionate and quick to act parts of myself which landed me in Gryffindor all those moons ago.

I wish I had the control which Jasper thinks me capable of. I wish I could suppress those Gryffindor traits which rear their ugly heads at the worse of times. I shudder to think of what the consequences would be should I ever snap and punch someone across the face as I had back in third year. When a spoiled unthinking brat couldn't see the worth of another living creature.

I am a person who will always wish to defend the underdog. This is a position of defender which I jump into without taking a moment to doubt myself. In my past life, no matter how many occasions I was thrust into confrontation for these actions, I never once regretted my stance. Now, how can I defend when so easily even the best intentions could twist my actions into become worse than those of the being which I wish to defend against?

My thoughts came to a grinding halt as Esme placed her hand lovingly on my shoulder. It is remarkable that I should even be able to identify that action as loving when I had been so preoccupied. I can however because she is Esme. She may not have the special skills of Jasper but she will forever be a mother. She knows like any mother that which ails her children. Sometimes I think that she too can feel my pain and I feel guilty.

I smile at her, telling her that I realize our location in the house and that I am alright to speak with Carlisle. Esme would be the first to speak up should she think I need more time before integrating myself into a human high school. Esme wishes to protect me, which makes the defender in me wince with a bruised ego because too much of me fears in such a case that she may be correct. In a way, walking through the threshold of his study, is the point of no return.

"Hello, Hermione." Carlisle greeted as I sat down in front of his desk. "How has your day been?" He watches as his wife leaves and for a moment I wanted that. A person in my life to whom I mean the world and the worth of everything in existence. The thought however is irrelevant. I will never have the forever with the love of my life. I will instead have forever with a family I love and that is more than enough. I know with every fiber of my being that I am inarguably correct with this point.

"Alright." The day had been alright. Honestly. I had been having some self reprimanding thoughts but besides that I had a very interesting time watching Alice and Edward play cards. The use of their abilities against each other made it hilarious. Had we any taste for pop corn, we would have made some to watch their performance. "How was work?" I ask, because when thinking of earlier may be amusing, eventually thoughts of earlier in the day would become thoughts of later in the day and these recent thoughts are those which I really do not wish to dwell upon.

"I had some interesting cases today and that Meer boy was in again." Alex Meer, according to the stories of the family, is socially isolated among his peers. He also hero worships Carlisle. Emmett seems to think that he intentionally hurts himself to get into the hospital to see the good doctor. Edward has taken a stand to neither confirm nor deny the theory. Which in itself speaks volumes.

"Emmett will be interested in hearing that." I tried my best to sound interested and happy, I really did. Carlisle was not fooled. He had known from the minute I had stepped foot in the room, possible before that, that something was wrong. I love him, I do. Sometimes though, I wish I mattered a little less to him. Then he wouldn't worry so much.

He continued to play the game. What game I could not tell but it continued, "I picked you up something today."

He handed me a small box. According to the packaging this was a cell phone, the Motorola W315, not that I know what significance that holds. The thing was red. "Thank you." I let the box rest in my lap. My genuine yet forced reaction gave him another clue, more ammunition. I could almost see a wand pointed at me and at the ready, prepared to strike with or without notice.

"Are you sure you are alright?" He asked again as he surveyed me across his immaculately organized desk.

"I'm fine." These were the moments that I felt like I have a real father. The idea of it lifted my spirits, but Carlisle had already picked up the trail. We would end up talking about what has been bothering me or at the very least on of the lesser points which I have been dwelling upon. I think I should feel saddened that I experienced enough to make it second nature to speak my way through a conversation enough so that I never speak a word of which I do not want to.

"Alright young lady, speak up. What's the matter?" Even though he went with the blunt approach laced with humor, he cared. That mattered, to me, it mattered.

Carlisle just stared at me. As someone who has actually been interrogated by means of torture techniques, I can honestly say that I have never wanted to spill my guts quite as much as I did under the stare of Carlisle Cullen.

"I feel like I am become a materialistic glutton." I blurted. Not that this was on the top of my list of issues bothering me, but it was bothering me enough to make this conversation genuine. Sometimes, I think a life ago, that the hat might have been wrong.

He took my statement more seriously then I would have. Had someone complained of this to me I would have told them only if I thought they were right or not. Carlisle was too patient for that method, and he cared to much to use it. Instead, he walked me through my problems, step by tiny step.

"Why do you feel like you are becoming that way?" He asked, honestly caring. I couldn't not tell him the truth.

"None of it has ever mattered to me before. I've never had a taste for fashion. Basic, sensible and limited have always been the foundation of my wardrobe. Now I have closet that could work part time as a bedroom, filled with expensive clothing. I haven't worn an outfit twice since I've gotten here. I have a car, one that I don't want to know the price of. I have a jewelry box holding priceless jewelry and up until a short while ago I never thought that I liked jewelry. I have a laptop, and I've never even thought about buying a desktop. Repeatedly, I have gone internet shopping. Emmett has gotten me a mattress, and I don' even sleep. I've gone shopping with the girls and I've gotten art supplies with Jasper. I've even gone shopping at the greenery with Esme." My eyes were searching his for understanding. I wanted him to understand that my resent materialistic greed wasn't in my character.

Carlisle gave a soft, somehow reassuring, chuckle. "Alright, lets look at this, shall we?" I didn't know what he had in mind but I nodded. "Why did the girls fill your closet with clothes?"

"Because I didn't have any." I responded instantly. I still didn't get it, what he was getting at. Smartest witch of my age or not, there was no getting out of the cold hard facts.

"Because you didn't have any and they wanted you provided for you a home here, with all the makings of a home." He corrected me with a caring confidence. "Necessity is not greed. Nor is it gluttony."

"But the sheer number of clothing that I will never wear." I protested.

"To began with, you did not decide the number. They went over board, the whole family knows this. Their hearts were in the right place. As for you, having too many clothes that were not the product of your own shopping does not reflect upon yourself." He stated confidently. I didn't agree.

"I've been buying more clothes." I wasn't trying to be self pitying or however else I might be coming across. I know that Carlisle understands that I am just trying to be honest. I love him all the more for understanding. I shudder at the thought of ever having to part with these people ever in this eternity.

"Why." He spoke slowly and it was a queue for me to speak slowly as well. A hint for me to think about my answer. If only he truly understood how carefully it is I choose my words.

"I don't like drawing attention to myself, at least not for my physical appearance. Furthermore, any spotlight on myself is also on the family."

"Keeping a low profile and buying new clothing for security reasons is not gluttony." I conceded the clothing point. He realized this, "Why did you get a car?" Carlisle continued.

"They told me it was a welcome to the family gift." I admitted, I could see his strategy as if it were displayed to me on a twenty foot chess set. Internally I groaned, because I knew by the end of this conversation I would feel better but I would still feel as guilty as always.

Carlisle smiled again, I almost felt like a second year who needed to by guided to an answer because when I knew how he was guiding me, I did not know the final outcome. "And why a car? Out of all the gifts in the world, why did they decide on a car."

"Because we have several family members obsessed with cars?" I wasn't sure of my answer this time and I hadn't thought on it for long.

"Hermione, when you were upset with Edward. When you felt that there was even the smallest chance of you losing control, what did you do." The answer clicked. I had gotten into my car and drove. As a vampire, a dangerous being, willingly living where I can endanger humans it is my responsibility to use any means necessary to not harm those humans. The car was just another tool as much as it was an attempted catalyst to integrate me into the family. I was kind of startled at how close this hit upon some of my greater issues.

"I concede the point." It was my turn to smile. I would have let the matter drop but the blonde god figure across from me would never let that happen.

"Next?" He prompted, leaning back in his chair and just looking at me. I didn't feel subconscious, I don't think I have ever felt so under his gaze which is always more analytical than judging.

"The jewelry." I offered.

"Ah, those pretty little trinkets. If I am not mistaken most of that was sent to you by Remus Lupin."

"He sent me Harry's Mum's favorites. I get the gist of what you mean. Don't worry about me, I'll snap out of feeling like a greedy fool." I tried to wave away his unspoken words for as much his benefit as his own. I failed.

"Your mistaken, I know better than to worry about you. Your much to strong and resilient, I know you can take care of yourself. But sometimes, it's nice to let the ones who love us take care of us from time to time. Besides, I thought we were having a good time, sharing some smiles, and addressing a matter of importance."

"Thank you." I whispered, he heard it but ignored it as unnecessary.

"Now, we can cancel out the laptop and mattress. The laptop can be written off as needed for school and the mattress is normal."

"But I am not normal. I don't need a mattress."

"Then why did you buy it?" I wanted to glare or stick out my tongue or even lie. Not because I am mad but because it would fit into the situation. Such an action would make this even more the picture of an average family with no skeletons or animal carcasses in the closet.

"Comfort, normally, privacy, routine."

"Let's move onto the internet shopping. What have you been buying?"

"Books and jewelry."

He leaned back further and grinned, he knew before I even answered his next question that he had won another round. "How many books do you have now?"

"Maybe two dozen with another sixteen in transit."

"And how many did you have back in London."

This was a big defeat, "Nearly twelve thousand but ninety percent of that were from the Black and Potter libraries and many of them were doubles and triples."

"And what types of jewelry."

"Charms." I didn't elaborate of purpose. Like a true father he knew to persist.

"Charms of what?"

"Animals." I admitted begrudgingly.

"Why?"

I rolled up my sleeve and looked and the bulky but beautiful charm bracelet. I took it off and tossed it to him.

"Why?" He asked again, just as gently as his first.

"Each animal was either the animagus form or the Patronus form of friends and comrades. "

"Remembrance and honoring your friends, is not gluttony nor greed."

I took my bracelet back and fingered each of the charms for a while. Finally, Carlisle dragged me back to the present.

"The greenery?"

"Bamboo plants."

He answered for me this time. "An attempt to gain control of the vampire by appealing to your inner animal?" I nodded. "The art supplies, a bonding with your brother?" I nodded again. I had been defeated and beat down, I was glad I had been wrong earlier, on a few counts.

Carlisle still had more to say, "Your starting a new life out of nothing, it will take a sudden onslaught of new things to get you on your feet and having the material objects to continue with a semblance of an average life. You also just came out of a time when you were focused on a war, rationing and being completely practical. Part of being human, or pretending to be, is finding some amusement in material things. As vampires we live a long time, you will be buying a lot of things over the years to beat off boredom. The thing about gluttony isn't even the amount of stuff you have. The sin is falling into a state where you start buying a surplus of objects because you think they will make you happy."

In superhuman speeds I was hugging a father figure for the first time in a long while. I may have thought of Carlisle as a father before but never so clearly or completely as today.


	27. The Depiction

**MISSING CHAPTER**: I'm not really a fan of author notes but this is necessary. I'm not sure if people are aware of the last update named **THE SIN**. Personally, I didn't get an email when it uploaded so I would like to point people to the previous chapter if they have not read it yet. With that said, thank you all for reading, thank you for your reviews and I hope you all continue to enjoy the story!

* * *

Third Life

The Depiction

If nothing else can be said about me, one can be sure that I am a creature of habit. I always have been and my routine concerning my reading material had formed quickly in my new home.

I only keep the books I am currently reading or plan to read soon in my room. After I finish one of these books, I add it to the family library or return it there, depending on where the volume originated from. I have been reading a lot of books that I have ordered online. Unfortunately, I tend to move through the material quicker than they can be delivered. As such, I have been simultaneously making my way through the family's library.

I am currently reading Interview with a Vampire, by Anne Rice. Over the past three days, I have found that the human take on vampires really is fascinating. Which has led to me reading seventeen different vampire books written by muggles over the better part of three days. Absorbed in this book's pages is how Mercury found me.

This time he held an envelope, not a scroll. "Thank you, love." I commented, letting the bird perch on my shoulder as I found the biscuits I had stashed in my desk for any owls that came by. Chocolate chip biscuits happened to be Mercury's favorite. I hadn't remembered that they were his favorite before I was turned. I learned this after, although, I'm sure I knew before, I just don't remember.

When the bird was happily eating, I turned my attention to my mail. There was not much to read but the contents spoke volumes. On the back of a muggle picture of Harry, Ron and I, the one that had been framed in my room at the Black residence, was a short sentence. _What do you need. _

He wanted correspondence, that much was clear. Furthermore, he wanted to help and where I gave no method of him to help me, he offered his own. He would gather pictures if I only asked. Those pictures were precious, priceless memories which I had come to terms with never seeing again. I wished I could cry because that would release this overflow of emotions. Poor, poor, Jasper.

_Severus, _I wrote, choking on emotion,

_Yes, please, a thousand times, please. I had come to terms with never seeing images of my loved ones ever again. I have even taken to drawing out those I miss and have known in an attempt to never forget their appearances. You would have my many thanks if you are willing to send over the albums from the third shelf in the room you found this picture. To be honest, it may be the fourth shelf. _

I knew better then to address his willingness and near persistence to help me. I wanted to know about him, I wanted to know about the world I felt cut off from. Now, in this one moment, it felt as if the world had stopped in my need to know such things.

_Please, tell me the state of the Wizarding World? How is the recovery process going? More importantly, how are you? How is your research? Are you and Remus getting along any better in these past months? I've heard that the new batch of first years is quite the bunch. I imagine it will be nice for Hogwarts to once again play host to innocence. _

I didn't know what else I was meant to say, I only knew that I wanted to say something. Maybe even something I could not articulate.

_I miss you,_

I wrote instead.

_Jane Bishop _

I signed.

Mercury hung around for a while, the affectionate nips told me that he had missed me. I missed him too. I spoke to him completely unconcerned. Everything, even the feelings I had hid between the lines of my volumes I spoke to my companion. Like proper familiars, he listened and he understood. Offering freely his complete support and comfort. I knew, as much as I can ever know for sure, that I love him, and that I have since I first was introduced to him.

The rest of the occupants of the house always stay away from my room when I have a guest. They find no reason to temp themselves with the animal's presence, they also know that I like to be alone after receiving any correspondence form a world which I am no longer a part of. Personally, I am just grateful that they have never taken offence to this preference.

Before Mercury left, he agreed to sit for me. Proudly he perched in stillness as he allowed me to sketch his form. Later, I would spend more time on a more developed drawing. For now, I was happy with the sketch. Mainly this image was in black and white but I added the mildest touch of color to better capture Mercury's image. I'll buy a camera soon, I think.

I kissed the owl gently on his cranium before he flew off to return to his master. Briefly, I wanted to fly.

The feeling of happiness slowly creped over me but it was obviously there.

I went to go find someone, I didn't want to be alone at the moment. I could hear the three who were home milling about. Edward was the closest and the one I had focused on first. So I went to him. I took four hallways, two lefts and a right to get to him. He had known I was coming for nearly as long as I had. Regardless, I leaned on his door frame until he invited me in.

"You smell like owl." Edward commented as he opened his window. I wasn't sure if I should be insulted. Normally, I take the time to shower before leaving my room after I have interacted with any carriers. This time had been different though. I hadn't wanted to risk losing this high and now I wonder if I had been mistaken in coming to by brother. "I don't know how you can be in such proximity to prey and not drink." Then it wasn't an insult. With care I dropped every feeling of being insulted. I was not willing to let the feelings dwell and ruin my mood any more than these feelings already had.

"You stay in a building filled with prey five days a week." I challenged.

"Yes, but there we know we risk exposure. We do not bring the prey into our home." Edward wasn't actually debating the point to change my ways. This was intellectual banter, family.

I dropped down on the sofa beside him, gently kicking his shin sideways as I did so. "Mercury is not prey, he is a friend. There is no temptation when you care about keeping someone alive." I countered easily, hugging one of the many pillows to myself as I would have done had I still been human.

"Why do you have such an easy time?" This was insulting, even if he didn't mean it as such. I could feel my whole body still and all motions I try to always maintain to look human fall away. I was no longer comfortably bantering with my brother, I was submerged in a deep conversation and apparently without a life vest.

"I don't have an easy time. I work for my control." I spoke very slowly, precisely. Edward stared at me, looked into my very soul without reading my mind. He found something. I still wanted a life boat, a flotation device or at least a bubblehead charm.

"You have an easier time then most and you know why." If possible my body tensed even more, enough to shake nearly indiscernibly. I did not wish to be an outsider here. I don't think I could survive again with layers of expectations. I have always known myself to be far from perfect and I know I once hated people believing me to be. A part of me knew that if I gained that image again that I would run. I love my family but I could not do that to myself again. I would be in Australia before the morning rose.

Alice, all the way in the garage dropped some tool. I didn't know why until I analyzed my thoughts and realized that I had chose to leave should my conversation with Edward take a certain turn. The look on Edward's face made me know that he too knew what Alice saw. Even then, I could not with certainty promise not to leave and chase away Alice's vision. This made me feel awful and with regret I let all hopes of ever getting back the high I was feeling when I had entered the room.

I felt like a deer caught in a strong lumos charm and I really wished to flee but my body would not comply. "There are two reasons why I manage as well as I do, I will admit." I spoke stiffly. Edward, face confused and possibly in pain, rose an eyebrow and as if a reveal spell had been case , I knew that he was questioning me for Jasper.

All of my thoughts had been too hasty. However, those feelings lingered and remained inside of me even as I became more comfortable and willing to confess to him. "The first reason is the method of my death. In the Wizarding world it is believed that your soul is split when you kill another person." I explained, retreating behind my academic voice. The voice I used when I discovered some new theory. "I was dying by black magic consuming me from the inside out and the venom, acting to save me, targeted and eliminated that magic. I think that the venom considered all dark magic a threat at that point and the damage that my soul had suffered in life was repaired, healed. I was left with only good and pure magic. I think that is why I have had an easier time. I also think that is why my power manifested as it did."

"You said two reasons." The one I provided wouldn't help Jasper and Edward was in fishing mode. Whatever had concerned Alice and he was now gone and I was glad it did not linger with them as it did within myself.

"Just control, I have very strong control over my mind. Years of practice of doing such. I have been working with Jasper so he might find that same control."

Edward was confused, he hadn't known that and not knowing is abnormal to him. "The exercises are not what you would notice. Breathing, meditation, the point is to release thought and gain control, it wouldn't be something that would gain your attention. Your attention is grabbed by the strength of thoughts, not by the absence of said thoughts."

He seemed to think about the idea of escaping his notice and he didn't seem to like the idea. Now he knew how I felt, so I took the opportunity to spring the big question on him, "Alice lied to me, didn't she?" His confusion moved with the topic.

"About what?" He asked pulling me further into the couch and forcing me to relax.

"The treaty, we broke it didn't we. The treaty isn't just about biting humans on designated lands, it is about biting humans in general. That's why Carlisle was so tense going into that meeting with the chief and was another reason why Jasper was so quick to draw up identities."

He couldn't find the words to respond to me, which spoke for itself. I nodded to myself, knowing I had pegged everything as I was generally prone to do. "So what?" I continued feeling as if I was talking to myself in my sarcastic tone, "We're going with the story that I am not a new born. We just lucked out with my control." It was unfair my bitterness. I may not like that we broke a treaty but I would have never been brought to my family had Emmett not acted. I was torn, but either way I had the right to know. Someone should have told me. I shouldn't have been walking around blind. "Would have been nice to have some warning." Edward remained quite. That was probably for the best, I don't think a fight would have been beneficial to our relationship at the moment. I sighed and buried my face in his shoulder but neither of us said a thing.


	28. The Brave

Third Life

The Brave

Bravery, ha, what a laugh that concept is. I don't really believe that anyone will every be truly brave. Then again I still resign myself to using the term because regardless how little favor I put in the concept now a days, actions still tend to fall into the category of what is considered bravery. I have no other term to use and I am not in the practice of making up my own.

I hadn't just started scoffing at this concept. In fact I have spent the better part of the day in my animal form lounging in a tree just on the perimeter of Cullen land. The loss of sleep was odd, especially in my animal state, an animal that spends so much of its time in slumber to boot. I'm still in the tree and not even the presence of potential food has made me move.

Even growing up in a house meant for the brave I don't think I have ever seen a true act of bravery. What is being brave anyway? Does one need to be selfless for it to work? Or is Eleanor Roosevelt correct and it is not the absence of fear that makes someone brave but the knowledge that there is something more important then that fear?

I think my problem with bravery is that I rarely think that actions and thoughts go hand in hand when someone is being brave or even just in general. I'm a shinning example of this, if I could have my way I would run scared from half the world only I'm stopped by chants reminding me that I am a Gryffindor. Brainwashing I'm sure, after all, that hat did wish to put me in Slytherin.

Then again it just may be the fact that I have felt little desire to face the world in the past months. First in the aftermath of the war and now in the early stages of my life as a vampire. I've always been like this though. I have never wanted to face anything with out being prepared and learning the absolute most I can about whatever I would be facing or heading into. Only then I would eventually tell myself that I was wasting time and would get on with life. Now I have nothing but time.

My newest thing to face will be public schooling surrounded by tempting tasty innocent students. Two more days until that challenge is mine to face and quite honestly that island Harry had written about and that I had day dreamed about on my drive away seemed like a terribly wonderful idea. I felt bad for Alice, it was mean of me to think so much of that now detailed fantasy but I could scarcely control myself. At least Edward could not hear my thoughts.

If I were brave the idea of Edward reading my mind would not be as terrible as I am making it to be. So maybe that is my problem, not the idea of bravery but the fact that I see so little of it, none actually in my own self.

This whole family is brave, is that why I sometime still feel as if I am the outsider. They challenge the ideas of their kind and they live their life continuously in the presence of temptation and they do not fail. I plan to do that I suppose but it hardly makes me feel like I am accomplishing anything. I should be rebuilding a world and inspiring hope and growth but I ran like the scare child I am. I ran and I sentenced myself to a life as a vampire.

Sentenced may be a strong word for my current situation. I see nothing wrong with being a vampire but I hardly have the opportunity to contribute to world as I had once promised I would do. All my plans, expectations for myself and worse, the expectations others had for me crashed and shattered in a single moment and I can never go back.

No matter what I tell myself I know the true reason that I believe myself a coward. It isn't because I don't what to be here, be a vampire. It is because I do, because I don't want to go back, because I am happy, because I shouldn't be and because I don't deserve what I have. If I were brave I would tell more then a few I am alive. If I were brave I would have been the hero the Wizarding world needed. If I were brave I would have gone back and if I were brave I wouldn't be in a tree scorning the idea because I feel like I have failed my very upbringing.

I should be stronger then this. I shouldn't be sinking into self pity. What a disgusting site I must make. Merlin forgive me for what I have done, will do, for what I think and will think and for what I never meant to happen. Forgive me for moving on so I do not have to face my past.

"Hermione." It was Edward. Alice or Jasper must have sent him. Chances are Rosalie was forcefully holding Emmett back. Not for the first time I wished my animal wasn't so exotic. I wished that I could blend in and disappear forever.

I didn't even turn my head as Edward scaled the branches with ease. Why should I, to greet a man that I did not wish to talk to. He has as much right to be here as I but I do not wish to speak with anyone and I sure am practiced by the art of ignoring the unwelcome.

"Your worrying the family." I do that a lot. Merlin, Harry and Ron forgive me.

He tried again, "What's going on?" That must frustrate him, not _knowing. _Maybe it should have made me feel guilty but it made me feel uncommonly pleased. Some times I wonder why I am such a cruel witch. Oh, but that's right, I am hardly a witch anymore.

"Will you at least turn back into yourself." I didn't, I just scoffed in my mind. I was myself, the form didn't change who I am. Although it does tend to warn off people talking with me. Most people feel foolish talking with an animal. Damn Edward for being abnormal.

"I don't know what set you off. What created this mood? You were talking perfectly fine with everyone this morning."

What had caused this mood, what a perfectly nosey question. Don't I deserve what ever privacy I fought to maintain after he had invaded said privacy for so long. And why had they sent Edward of the lot? I would have thought they would have sent Esme or Jasper.

"Don't ignore me. You were fine just hours ago." Just hours ago in vampire speak was really a dozen or so.

I would have thought what set me off was obvious but apparently not, I didn't want to talk now. He would go away eventually. Later, I would face those worried about me. I'll talk to Emmett tonight. But for now I know that I need this pity party. I continued to ignore Edward.

Tonight I would talk to Esme. Tonight I would confess to Emmett, I would confess my fears and my disappointments. For now I sat in my tree and saturated in my feelings and doubts. Edward sat with me, it made me feel worse and loved at the same time. Regardless, I sat, silent until the night grew dark.


	29. The 23rd

Third Life

The Twenty Third

* * *

In my first life, I had gone through the muggle schooling system until I was nearly twelve. Just under a year of which I spent dreaming of the magical world that I would be entering into so very soon. I have always been smart, and not just concerning my magical talent and education. During those first twelve years of my life, I had worked my way through primary and part of secondary school. Like I had stated, I was advanced. But I had never been to a muggle high school. I had happily gone off to Hogwarts before I finished secondary school, never mind sixth form. So yeah, Muggle High school, I'm certainly nervous.

It doesn't help that I happen to be a vampire as I head off to my first day of high school in a non magical environment. The funny part about that, is it barely registers as weird to me, even if I'm not looking forward to it. Can you believe it? Me, Hermione Jane Granger, am not looking forward to attending a place of learning.

I glared at the shinny red automobile in front of me as if this piece of machinery was the reason I didn't want to go to Forks High School.

Two cars are needed now. Before the Cullen teenagers could all fit into Edwards Volvo. Now, I was causing problems and dragging attention onto my family. First, I come into a town, which rarely gets new residents and now I have given Rosalie a reason to show off her BMW. The thing really is an attention magnet and an industrial magnet at that.

I knew that I would do everything that I could not to draw any unnecessary attention to myself. I also knew that I would most likely fail at that attempt. Regardless, I tried. I chose very plain clothes, a dark wash jean and a cream sweater. My hair was pulled back into a messy pony tail that I had fastened without looking into the mirror. With the knowledge that I would be looked at all day, I did eventually and reluctantly look into the mirror. I was still unhappy with my appearance. Each time I looked at my reflection I still hoped to find my precious mane. My mane had never returned. Furthermore, my attempts at looking plain fell through horribly. I could be on the cover of a magazine just as I am and the bloody thing would sell. Bugger.

I huffed, still unpleased an hour later when I gathered my plain black coat and made my way down to the garage to meet with the others. October 23rd, Hermione Jane Bishop's first day of public high school. I was not looking forward to this.

Edward, Alice and Jasper had left only moments before in the Volvo. This was Carlisle's plan, he had figured that arriving a little while apart would be less attention grabbing. I didn't think that it would make much of a difference. A parking lot full of students would just turn into a building full of students.

I slung my nearly empty school bag into the back of Rosalie's car. When the muggle bag may weigh nothing considering my superhuman strength I still craved my overstuffed aged bag which I had used for six years, only one of which I thorough to incorporate the weightless charm. These little things, these are the moments I remember my past life with any clarity and it makes me miss the people left behind even more.

"It wont be as bad as you think." Esme commented lightly. She was here to see us off and I think that she had been talking to Jasper. Then again she might had just been tapping into her motherly intuition. I walked over to where she stood by the back wall. Rosalie and Emmett were talking quietly and if I cared to I would have been able to make out every word. I didn't fancy that idea. Besides, they were giving Esme and I our privacy, I can certainly respect theirs.

"I don't want to cause this family any problems. I already know that I have caused a stir with the elders on the reserve. I don't want to cause the same problems at the high school." My tone was light only so the sound would not carry. Emmett would worry for me and worrying should not be part of his character.

"Carlisle has been saying that most of his co-workers and patients are most interested in meeting you. " That was the problem. I should have just lived silently in the house and became part of the family at our next location. The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea of playing ghost for a few years. Too bad that it was too late for that. "Carlisle wants you to meet with Dr. Gerandy early next week." I wanted to growl at the added socializing responsibility. Vampires are not meant to be social creatures.

"I don't want to meet anyone, this all feels like a mistake." I felt like I was three years old. Rosalie had started the car and put the roof up, after all we live amidst the rain. We would be leaving soon. I looked back at Esme. I looked at her hoping that she would hold all the answers I seek.

"No, I dare say none of us have ever wanted to meet new humans. Hermione," my name still sounded like an endearment when she spoke it. "you have nothing to be worried about. What comes may come."

I didn't respond. I didn't want to disappoint Esme anymore then I might have already. I walked the small distance to the car. Emmett put a rough hand on my shoulder and opened my door for me. I got in. Rosalie handed me a pair of light black gloves, I put them on and they fit my delicate looking hands perfectly. I felt like a puppet, nothing more and certainly not alive.

The first fifty three seconds were all silence and it was making my thoughts race. Rosalie was the first to get fed up with the lack of sound within the car. Unlike Edward she was much to forward then to simply turn on the radio. "This worrying is pointless, worse comes to worse we move and take a vacation for a few years." I smiled, Rosalie didn't want to move.

Just as much as Rosalie didn't want to move I did not want to be dragged bathing suit shopping. Actually, no bathing suit shopping was a pretty good incentive to not fail and drink someone. More then that, I could pep talk myself.

This was something I can do, I've faced worse. A bunch of teenagers with appetizing scents kind of pales in comparison to Voldemort and his merry band of Death Eaters. I reached forward from my seat in the center of the back and grabbed Emmett's hand. I've risked the very fabric of the timeline and my own sanity along with it. I can manage measured hours in a public high school five days a week. I'm strong enough for this. Hell, I was the bloody smartest witch of my age, being a vampire will not alter or erase my fundamental characterization.

I wished for more time to prepare, a part of me was crying out for the time. I had thought I was preparing but apparently it had done nothing for me. Wishes weren't granted and too soon we were pulling into the school parking lot. We were earlier then most, however, a good amount of students and faculty had already arrived.

Rosalie had turned off the car, but like Emmett and I she made no indication of moving. People were staring at the car and the pair of them turned around so it appeared like we were talking, not that they were giving me a few more needed minutes to collect myself. I was still clutching onto Emmett's hand and Rosalie was squeezing my knee in a reassuring gesture that I don't think she had ever preformed before. I clung to my cross as if it alone could save me. For I very much fear that my new family might not be enough for the task.

"Well, this is it then." Emmett grinned at me, because he knows that he can't look at me like that without me feeling like somehow this would all turn out okay.

"We were talking about this before we left. Rose is going to be the one to bring you into the office to get your stuff. The receptionist is afraid of her so you should be able to get in and out pretty quickly."

I nodded and we all got out of the car smoothly. Our audience was captivated and I did my best to ignore them as Rosalie linked her arm with my own. Emmett headed across the parking lot to meet with the rest of our family and Rosalie led me towards the main entrance.

The office was small and stuffy so I stayed close to Rosalie and focused on her scent. I'm lucky in general that my sense of smell isn't as powerful as the others. Still I could clearly hone in on her crisp sweet scent that could pass as a perfume. The smell wasn't something bottled, Emmett hated when Rosalie used smelly perfumes and bath products, so surprisingly, she doesn't.

The women behind the desk was staring at us like we were models from her favorite magazine and it was disturbing. I was very thankful for my gender at the moment because I would hate for the same look to be laced with lust.

Rosalie cleared her throat in a clearly fake way that displayed her disgust. "Hello girls." The red haired receptionist with her caked on makeup greeted us as she broke out of her trace. It was clear that she had grown uncomfortable the second that Rosalie had cleared her throat and I bit back a smile. Maybe today wouldn't be as terrible as I had thought it would be. "I've heard wonderful things about you dear. Doctor Carlisle," his voice was high and feminine when she spoke his name and it betrayed her attraction to him. This I found more then a bit disturbing. "came in the other day to set up everything with the principal and said only the most wonderful things about you. He, the principal that is, really wanted to be here to welcome you to the school himself, but was called into a meeting with the district director very last minute. He was terribly disappointed."

"That's all fine Ms. Cope, but we were really hoping to get Hermione's schedule so we can show her around a bit." If I didn't have a strong dislike of this Ms. Cope I might have felt sorry about the way Rosalie was making the women shake in fright. The papers she was handing me were clearly wavering as an example of her fear.

"Thank you." I spoke in a practiced human volume. She was going to say something, but Rosalie was gliding me out of the room. I am really starting to love Rosalie, not that I hadn't already.


	30. The Classes

Third Life

The Classes

* * *

The family was waiting for Rosalie and I by her locker. As it turned out, through someone's intervention, I ended up getting the locker directly to the left of hers. I found myself extremely happy with this placement. Even with Emmett's monstrous size, Rosalie is still the least approachable. I would be left alone when at my locker. This was a wonderful blessing.

As Alice claimed my schedule, I focused on opening the locker without breaking the lock. The first number was 13, turning to the right a full rotation I found the next number, 7. Finally, to the left I ended on 36. The inside was bare except a beat up bumper sticker that had 'Honk to support the chess club' across it. Jasper started to get it off for me. I was surprised by how easy a task it seemed for him.

"You are in Mr. Banner's honors chemistry class with Jasper and Rose." Alice told me as she read, I knew that she had already known my schedule but I let her play human. Especially here where you never know when a random muggle appear and listen. "Emmett is in your honors British Literature class with Mr. Mason. He is also in your gym class, so is Edward." As she spoke Edward's name with a hint of something else he suddenly slide his arm around my waist. For a moment I was confused, but then the nearby door was open bringing in a group of students and a strong burst of scent. I turned my face into his neck and barely succeeded in smothering a moan of pain.

"You're on your own for art and Calc." Edward spoke into my ear, letting me know what Alice had said when I was distracted. "Rosalie is across the hall from your art class and I have a math class at the same time as you so I will be close." He squeezed my waist so I knew that it was safe for now. I withdrew my head from his neck but his grip on my waist remained. Thank Merlin for him.

"Rose is in your honors history class too." Alice finished handing me back the paper.

The hall was getting even more populated and I shrunk as far into Edward's side as I could. The whispers about our position were many and I knew that throughout the day I would be hearing the comments. I could deal with the comments as long as they did not revolve around the idea of the new girl going crazy and biting another student/

"Dude, look at her!" The teenage voice of a male in the mist of puberty was like nails on a chalkboard to my ears. I winced and somehow managed to retreat further into Edwards side.

"She is HOT!" The friend of commenter number one answered him. His voice was more bearable, but his comment even less welcome.

"Oh. My. God. It is so not fair that she looks like that!" This one was a screechy female. I wanted to rip off my ears.

"Emmett, you have Brit Lit with her first period. Why don't you head over there early." Jasper's voice was like a glace of heaven after being stranded in hell and even through my own discomfort I could notice his own.

I didn't protest as I was handed off to Emmett from Edward's hold. Even if they were treating me as a brainless doll. I was nearly thankful, because I wasn't quite sure I had enough control and mindset to control myself and make my own decisions.

Emmett was leading me through the halls with a friendly arm wrapped around my shoulder. His 6'5'' towered over my mediocre height making his presence that much more reassuring. The comments continued.

"When do you think Rosalie will attack." A girl whispered to her friend.

"Wait, Edward and Emmett? That is not fair!" Yuck.

"Hey, she's walking with Emmett, do you think that means she will be in my English class?" I really hope not. I don't want to have to listen to his voice all the time. Emmett was lightly chuckling and I elbowed him in the side. As a newborn my strength still has an impact on him. At least he felt the jab.

"A little sympathy brother dear." I hissed under my breath.

"Step back an embrace the humor little sister." Stepping back would be a way to deal with the day, he was offering me advice, so I didn't elbow him again.

He opened the door and held it open for me, letting me enter into the room which only housed the professor. I was glad that there were no students and that Emmett was leaning against the door so none would follow us in. The professor was too busy staring at me to care and I was more then a bit grossed out. The man really needed to close his mouth. A growl and well formed glare from Emmett broke the professor out of his drooling.

"Mr. Mason, I'm Hermione Bishop, I'll be joining your first period class." I was glad that I had kept my gloves on because he held out his had for me to shake. I hate hand shakes, it really is an awkward and useless practice. I made sure my grasp was nearly limp as he shook my hand.

"Doctor Carlisle's god daughter, we have all heard so much about you." He was grinning widely, the grin was supposed to be welcoming. I wanted to run. Luckily, his smell was only mildly tempting and I'd rather not reenter the hallway. The hallway filled with students talking about my beauty, the unfairness of life and if they would have any chance at shagging me.

I forced a smile that I'm sure he couldn't tell was fake. "We all want you to feel welcome, I even went through lengths to shuffle some student, you'll be able to take the seat next to Emmett." He was trying to impress me, I found this sad.

"Um, thank you."

"Yes, well, we also have to talk about how you will make up the work you have missed. Now, I am more then happy to meet with you after school on Wednesdays and Fridays-"

"Actually teach, if you give her the material I'm sure she will catch up in no time. Besides, if she needs any help I'm only a hallway away." Emmett had cut him off and obviously made the man uncomfortable. When he was distracted I put another foot of space between Mr. Mason and myself.

"Ah, yes, that is to say I'll have the work you missed put together for you by Monday."

"Thank you." Emmett stopped leaning against the door and with a hand on the small of my back lead me to my seat as the students now flooded into the room. The bell rang only two minutes later.

Nothing particularly unexpected happened during our Brit Lit class. I would have sat stiffly, but with so many eyes on me I had to use all of the human movements Carlisle had taught me. Luckily, the movements hid the fact that I was barely breathing. Furthermore, even when the entire class was more focused on me then on the lesson, only a scarce few were brave enough to approach and introduce themselves. I really love Emmett's useful glares.

The comments during the class were considerably reduced and for a few moments I thanked the fact that this class, even at an honors level, would be ridiculously easy because all of my efforts were going into not killing the entire room. I fingered the pendent strung around my neck and waited in agony for the lesson to be over.

When the class concluded, Emmett and I were the last to exit and Rosalie and Japer were waiting for us outside the door. I bee lined towards Jasper to reap the benefits of his special powers. As the calm washed over me I watched as Rosalie and Emmett kissed briefly and he whispered in her ear to take care of me. Rosalie looked a bit peeved, like he had stated something so obvious that it shouldn't have even been mentioned.

This is why I never doubt my decision to abstain from drinking human blood. The torture of resisting is completely worth it to be able to be part of a real family again.


	31. The Devoted

Third Life

The Devoted

* * *

Rosalie had linked her arm with mine, again, and Jasper still stayed close to keep me calm. For the undead life of mine, I could not understand why I had been so opposed to Jasper playing with my emotions before. Now, I wished direly that he would never leave my side. I hated feeling like I was depending so completely on someone else's power and strength. The fact that it was Jasper whom I was depending on was the only reason I was allowing myself to do so in the first place. He knew, at least in some sense, how much I needed and wanted him next to me. He could feel my gratitude and I think it helped him in a way, to know that someone else was having a hard time being in the building. More than that, I think it helped him to know that he was helping me manage.

Walking to our honors chemistry class was laced with just as many comments as the walk to my Brit Lit class. Through the blaring buzz of constant sound, more then a few comments were actually discernable.

"Wasn't she with Emmett earlier? Think they're a threesome?" The guy's voice sounded nearly greedy and even my not superb sense of smell picked up on his charged hormones and sexual odors. I glanced at Rosalie and she looked disgusted by his presence in the hallway. I felt completely disturbed by his comment and I'm sure that it showed on my face. I concentrated on the feeling of Jasper's calm. Yes, I am completely sure that Jasper is giving Emmett a run for his money for the favorite brother position. Poor Edward, I don't think he ever stood a chance.

"Stop staring at her!" That one made me smile. I'm nearly sure that it was a girl addressing her boyfriend. When the idea of anyone staring at me was not what I wanted, the screechy voice of the girl had been comical. She reminded me of Lavender Brown and her Won Won and a part of me was worried that those memories were so removed from my emotions at this point.

Jasper was the one to hold the door open for Rosalie and I. Several comments from swooning girls caught my ear. All of them in dreamy tones about how they wished their normal boys would act gentlemanly like the Cullen and Hale men.

Rosalie directed me strait to the professor. A professor which my schedule had noted as Mr. Banner. "Mr. Banner, this is Hermione Bishop. She is in this class and if you get her work together, Jasper and I will catch her up with the workload." I bit my lip, I should have been amused by Rosalie's higher then you attitude. However, this class was less ventilated then the last and I really wanted to run to Jasper. Even if his calm radiated the distance from where he sat to my own being, I still felt calmer with closer proximity.

The only bright side was this professor had controlled himself from openly checking me out. "That sounds fine Rosalie." Which was probably because he seemed positively devoted to my sister. I should parade her around my English teacher, maybe then he would stop drooling at me. Somewhere in the school, we each heard Alice laugh.

The room was staring at us like everyone in this hell of a place tended to do. I wanted to tell them all to go bugger off, but at the same time that would take breath and make me breathe again to get the air to speak. Instead, I contented myself with letting Rosalie take care of my matters as a protective elder sister might. This included her scaring a short, awkward, brunette girl into abandoning her seat. Which meant I could claim a placement between my blonde protectors.

Again, I found myself horribly inattentive during the lesson, as I had been in British Literature. Instead my concentration was focused on not caressing the long neck of the muscular boy three seats in front of me with my mouth and savoring what I knew would be his tangy blood. I inched closer to Jasper as I resisted the sirens call of another student, of the well fragranced blonde that just had to wear her hair up today.

He was sending me waves of reassurance and confidence now and I knew that I would manage, however painfully. I resisted the temptation and pull of my necklace this time, fearing for it's structural integrity. However, even without that comfort I knew I would manage to live through this day without sacrificing another to my thirst. Be this by the abilities of Jasper's or my own dulled smell, I would manage. Now, I just had to continue to hold this mindset.

I will assume that I was concentrating a bit too strictly because the next thing I knew I was nearly whining as Jasper left me in Alice's and Edward's care outside of our study hall room. This time I was blessed with a female teacher. One smitten with Edward, she only offered me a brief hello. I cherished this lack of attention and moved as physically away from the other students as we could even as we retained all of their attention.

Alice was running the show. With her could be all knowingness, she was the logical choice to dictate our actions. Besides that fact, Edward was tense and angry looking in a way that I had not expected. His odd mood had only given me a glimmer of a distraction before too many students filtered in. Again I was struggling for control and leaned more into Edward then I think I even really realized. I was simply too focused on not eating my should be peers that I simply could not bother with the task of retaining my upright position.

I guess that Edward snapped out of his mood because with Alice he seemed to make our scene look like a lovers' picture. I could tell my the insistent chatter of the students and the mumbling of the overseer of the study hall. I knew I would not be able to manage this class. This was going beyond torture. Simply too many temptations in too little a space. I felt like I was drowning, burning and being compressed all at the same time.

Barely, only out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alice hold a guilty gleam in her golden eyes. I wanted to tell her that this was not her fault. That even if she foresaw my pain that I could care little that nothing was done. As long as we kept me from killing again then I could be pleased. She got up though before my thoughts about telling her could even truly be considered. She was talking to our chaperone in hushed tones and had I concentrated I might have heard more than the words "condition", "overwhelmed" and "air". Regardless, I was soon being lead out of the room, supported mainly by Edward as Alice trailed after us with her bag and my own.

The fresh air that swept over me as we left an emergency exit immediately next to the study hall's location, was like a high on steroids. This air I was taking into my greedy and useless lungs was the purest form of happiness that I might ever possess. It was as if I discovered a knew plane of happiness that I had never known was ever attainable before. Has I retained the ability to conjure a Patronus, the form would be larger than a giant. Or maybe Fluffy would return from the afterlife to grace us with their presence.

The pair of them said nothing of my gasping, only lead me towards the Volvo which I could swear was in a different parking space then it had been in only hours before. Alice opened up the back door so I could sit and not once did I mind their towering forms. I just leaned my head against the interior and smiled. For these moments I could be away from the testing temptations of drink.

I watched as the mist seeped into my shoes and my jean covered legs that were not protected by the shelter of the car's roof. For only a moment I almost apologized for them having gotten wet on my behalf, but I knew by experience that they neither felt nor cared about the soft misting rain.

"It will be cold, but it would be better if you drank." Alice was handing me a thermos she had gathered from the trunk. I knew, I _knew, _it was blood. Every cell in my body cried and pleaded for the heavy liquid, but my mind made me question my body's call. I could not truly know if a taste would throw me over the edge and make me claim what my instincts knew would be a more satisfying blood source. I almost declined the container, then she smiled and my resolve was shot.

I think I would have made a good impression of Ron had I seen my impressive act of chugging from an outsider's view.


	32. The Condition

Third Life

The Condition

The blood, stale, cold and inadequate as it had been, was nearly the best thing I could possibly use to manage the situation. Like an espresso shot or a poorly marketed caffeinated energy drink, the devoured animal blood would reinforce my resolve not to sink my teeth into the living humans and saturate myself with the calling liquid. The amount was too small, a meager comparison to the gluttonous amounts I had consumed only the evening before in preparation for this hellish day. Regardless, it was useful, it helped. And damn it all, I wanted coffee.

"Thanks Alice." I finally spoke, but I was directing my words at the thermos in my hands rather then my foresighted sister. "I guess I should get to it and just ask what condition Carlisle concocted that allowed you guys to whisk me away." The idea of doctor Cullen providing the school with information on his god daughter's faked medical condition really was brilliant. For one, it was another reason to bring me under his care. For another, whatever condition I have will likely match up with reasons for me to miss school and depart suddenly.

"We can talk about that later tonight." Edward decided instead, but then again he might have been playing off of Alice's thoughts. I sometimes wonder whom I am actually talking to when I speak with Edward. "We will also try to work out an agreement with the school about allowing you to leave campus during study blocks."

"I'm sorry. I should be stronger then this." I handed the thermos to Alice. I didn't want to crush it like I could see myself doing so easily.

"Oh, don't apologize Hermione. Let's put it this way, your very rare medical condition was really 'discovered' by our favorite doctor and is extremely rare. We've all had it at one point or another." I let out a small laugh that I really didn't feel. At least now I knew that Edward had been speaking as Edward before. Furthermore, the amusement gained from Alice imparting knowledge against Edward's will was always an amusing experience.

"How can you do this everyday? I'd rather be in a war zone then go in that building again." Even as I spoke with every fiber of truth I possessed I still knew that absolutely nothing could talk me out of going into the high school again. I'm a strong person. I know this not from a stroked ego or a distorted image of myself, but from past experiences where I have proven to myself the scope of my strength. I am also a good person. The reality of that particular accepted truth is harder to deal with. Because I have not always believed that I am a good person and I still sometimes reflect and think that I haven't been. I have killed, I have mingled in the power of the dark arts. I have lied. I have manipulated and I have disgusted myself with my actions. I have broken laws and I have done so with limited regret. But I have fought for a better world. I have killed to save others. I have tapped into power which completely frightened me as it tried to seduce me and I had done so to protect those whom I love. I may not believe that the ends always justify the means, but I do believe that the world is a better place because of my actions.

"I'm sorry, your going to have to say that again." I sighed and sent a pitiful glance at Alice, whom had been the one talking as I had lost my focus.

"Hermione, if you want to stay home you can. You can take a few years to adjust before coming to a high school. All of us took some time. Besides, the fact that you have only been turned for such a short while and have come this far is amazing in it's own."

"Alice, I don't need you to give me reasons not to go in there. I need you to give me advice on how to manage." My voice was more pleading then I'd like. Even if it were not my pride and belief in myself on the line, I have to go back in. Carlisle lied, the wolves believe I am not newly turned and to show any weakness may have dire consequences on the family.

Edward was watching me in a strange manor. He might have been thinking about the hours and hours that they had talked to me about all the ways to control myself. He might have been thinking about the practice I had put in with Carlisle or he might have been thinking about my own explanations on why I thought I had the control that I do have. I probably should be thinking about that too, but in a way I couldn't allow myself to think about it and I have no idea why. "Hold your breath." He reminded me. "And focus on anything you possibly can that does not remind you of your thirst." He continued to list the things I could do, and it helped to hear him ramble, even if I wasn't actually listening to anything else he said. I continued to pretend to listen as I laid back onto the length of the back seat.

I don't know how much time passed. I was much too content laying there to care much about anything. However, Alice was reaching back from where she was sitting in the drivers seat. She was resting her hand on my forearm and telling me that he bell was going to ring soon and that I was going to have to go to my next class. Then she was carrying on in her should be helpful voice about how I could go home if I wanted to.

Edward grasped my hand when I reached out for his. I really didn't need his help pulling myself up, but it was a comfort that he was willing to offer me. I needed comfort, I knew this and yet it was so foreign to me after all this time. My first thought was to hug Alice. Alice's hugs were comforting. Instead, I let myself be engulfed in Edward's embrace. His arms provided a force of comforting protection that I eagerly accepted. Screw physical appearances, Edward might be in the running for the favorite brother position too.

I was in Rosalie's care for my American History class. This period's professor was a woman, but Rosalie's higher then you attitude still allowed her to control the situation in my stead. Again, she would pretend to be my tutor in the subject as I worked easily on my own to complete the missed work.

I wasn't supposed to sit next to Rosalie. The teacher, whatever her name is, had made a seating chart to include my addition to the class. However, Rosalie simply batted her eyelashes and the boy who was supposed to sit next to me did her bidding, easily giving up his seat to her. Then she harshly ordered him away. I wanted to give her a hug. Yes, this women was the perfect person for Emmett and I was happy to know that for the rest of my endless existence she would be a part of my experiences. For this small time, I didn't have to try so hard and I believed Edward's words about not trying so hard.

This was the smallest class I have been in yet. There were only seventeen students, including myself. Besides that, the room was large and for the first time I actually gained a bit of information about the topic the professor was attempting to file away in the brains of her students. I held my cross again, this time in thanks.

Like every experience that I wish would last just a bit longer, the class ended too soon, leaving me in fright of what my next one might be like. When that one extremely annoying girl was making her twenty seventh dig at Rosalie and I based mainly on the fact that are appearances were more honored by a media hyped American culture, was when the bell had rung. My next class was math, calculus, and I was going to be all alone. What it really meant was not only would I not have a support system, but people might actually be tempted to talk to me. Stupid should be prey.


	33. The Alone

Third Life

The Alone

Rosalie walked me to the Math wing where she handed my well being into Edward's care. Mildly, I felt like the flag carried along and passed between partners in a relay race. Actually, I think I would rather be that flag. The flag always got to be with someone. I on the other hand would be alone as soon as Edward walked me to the door of my next class. Sure, only a wall would be between Edward and I, but that seemed like an insurmountable distance. On some level I felt as if I were about to be abandoned.

"Nothing will go wrong. I promise you." I looked into the very depths of his eyes. His eyes were the purest gold that vampire eyes could reach. He had been on nearly every hunting trip I had gone on these past few days, offering me every bit of support he could. That alone should be enough for me to trust that he wasn't about to let me ruin this for myself.

I nodded, "I shouldn't feel like I am being abandoned." I confessed leaning against the wall. His eyes caught my attention again and I figured that my own eyes would look similar if it weren't for the brown contacts altering the color of my eyes into a dark honey. Though, my eyes didn't hold depths of sympathy in their gaze.

"You aren't." He scolded gently. His hand was capturing my own and I realized briefly that we had a trying to be discreet audience. At least they were a bit away from us. Even if they were closer they would not be able to hear our hushed vampire level conversation.

"You know," my voice held a suddenness that admitted that I had not thought of my words before I spoke. I was okay with that in this instance, "I thought that I was done with all the high school rumor mill rubbish. I mean after a war, after seeing and dealing out death; who's with who and did you hear what that boy said to that girl in the great hall yesterday, was definitely on the list of things I never thought I would have to deal with again."

"Well, welcome to an eternity of high school experiences." I wanted to punch him for that comment with a nice slug to the arm. Somewhere, I think Alice might have laughed.

"On that depressing note, I am going to recycle some of that courage I'm told I have." I nodded again, not sure if it were at him or for myself. I decided not to think about it, because I was already entering my calculus class, right as the bell rang. A bloody loud bell.

"How nice of you to join us." If the voice weren't entirely neutral, I would have assumed I should be seeing caldrons. A sharp remark was on my tongue and I bit it back with haste. Yes, hating this professor would be good. Hating him would help me ignore the nice smelling students whom were staring at me.

"Professor Varner, I presume?" This was a bad move on my part. My 'adorable' British accent became a whispering conversation of the entire class, very few had actually heard me speak today.

"Was there a point in that declaration?" He was a rather mean teacher, or for some reason he just really didn't like me. Yes, his personality would do me favors.

"To determine if I were in the proper classroom, yes." I answered back easily. The classroom had quieted again and were watching the verbal spar between the professor and myself. I would assume they were questioning my sanity, easily falling into the bad graces of a professor and making no attempts to stop the process.

"We use the address Mister, here."

"My apologies then." I hadn't even realized that I had called him Professor, but I must have. I wonder if Edward and the rest of the family were listening to how I was handling myself. Without there protection and interventions it was inevitable that I would conjure up various defensive shields around myself with a hardened attitude.

"Well, introduce yourself then." I stared at what seemed like a great deal of time. I knew that it couldn't have actually been more then a split second.

"Hermione Bishop. Pleased to meet you." I remarked in a questioning tone with a slight incline of my head.

"Come now," He taunted in a Professor's humorless taunt, "you can do better then that. The students are quite interested in you, tell them about yourself." I rose an elegant eyebrow to him. A method of showing that even if I did as he said, that it was no way a win on his part.

I turned towards the class, focusing on my dislike of the Professor and made a careless hand gesture as I started to speak. "My name is Hermione Bishop, I've recently moved here from England to live with my godfather and his family." I kept it short, giving the class the scarce information that they all already knew. I turned back to him with a fake smile. A, 'see I introduced myself just like you said', smile.

"And why don't' you tell the class why you moved here?" He prompted.

"Come now, Professor Varner," I mimicked, "certainly there is no reason for me to divulge my own personal business."

Only sharpened vision detected the barest muscle twitch in his facial features. The man was trying not to grin or chuckle and it actually made me upset. I liked the verbal sparing fine, but it bothered me some that he was gathering amusement in the barbs as well. "Of course, take your seat then."

The only empty seat was dead center front row, I didn't pause. I took the seat willingly and sent him a cheesy fake smile.

The class had a test today and in a fit of the insufferable know-it-all I was once told to be, I decided to take that same test as well. My reasoning of course was a pleasantly said, "I hate to sit idly. " Of course, I really just wanted something to focus on for a little while.

He allowed me to take the test and I only spared a mild moments thought to why he seemed so amiable to the idea. Hardly any time at all, only enough to determine that he was going to gather the missed material for me when the class worked.

The worse thing about testing periods is that the students fidget. The frequent small movements served to severely fragrance the room. As I wasn't required to speak, blocking the scent was easy enough by simply not breathing. Regardless, I had to enter a nearly Occulding state in order to focus enough on the exam.

The material was simple enough. Granted that yes, it is an honors calculus level exam. However, even if I considered the material such, the entire process of taking the test had been hell. Even in an Occulding mind state, the temptation had been there and I really felt I needed to bolt out that door and find my protectors. This room had cracked windows which was a blessing in itself, but it was not nearly enough.

I turned my paper over and very carefully focused on counting the beats of my fingers against the desk. This did manage to take a great deal of concentration because I had to manage not to fracture the fake wood.

I had stopped paying attention to what was going on around me completely. Therefore, when the Professor suddenly swiped my paper off my desk it was highly unanticipated. He raised my paper and I knew what he was going to do, I wanted to laugh. "Well class, let's see how our newest addition has done."

I tipped my head to the side, and smiled a fake smile, again. I knew that I completed the test perfectly, maybe this class might be enjoyable after all.


	34. The Method

The Method

Mercury came, carrying a package and a thick envelope. This was strange, because Mercury was delivering an envelope with Jane written in George's handwriting and not the spidery script that should have marked the parchment. "Thank you." I was distracted and with a unfelt nip on my ear lobe Mercury left me to my thoughts.

I opened the letter easily.

_Jane,_

_The project has been completed and the package I have sent with this letter is the result. You my dear have received the first created magical mail transportation device which does not use owls over long distance.. Even before the Ministry who commissioned the project, you are just that important. And yours is bigger then theirs._

_To be fair, Snape helped me get the kinks out of the system. I had bumped into him when he was coming out of the apothecary and we got to talking. Now, don't rat me out and tell him but I had known that you had wrote him. He was more the Order member Snape sitting in the corner and drinking tea because Mum insisted on feeding him, than Professor Snape teaching Neville the morning after a nasty raid. So I knew._

_Anyways, besides telling you he misses you, which his letter, also enclosed will most likely hint at, I should tell you want my little gift does. _

_As you can see by the shape of the package, which I know you will only open when you finish my letter, it is rectangular. Well, it is a box actually. The Ministry has gotten tired of the paper air plane memo system. The owls had made a mess and the air planes had been easily read by Death Eaters during the war. This is where I come in. I created this baby for a heavy price. I based it on those vanishing cupboards that had been such fun before that all went to hell. One only needs to put an object in the box, tap the wand on the top and say who's box it goes to. Well, at least at the Ministry. _

_Yours is considerably altered and as I said a different size. About an hour after Mercury delivers this, the product will resize to your specialized gift. This device links directly to myself and Snape. Currently on your end you will find something sent from both Snape and me, when the package resizes itself that is. _

_Well, the object in there really isn't from me, I'm just the messenger. I found this in Charlie's things when I was helping sort through his belongings from the reserve. I didn't know you two were involved and I wont pry but his mate up there said it was meant for you. From what I know it is made of dragon bone, and no one but you will be able to open it. They call it a box of secrets. _

_Well love, that's all I have to say for now. Set up a day you want to play 'open and close the box' and we will send you that library of yours. _

_With affection, _

_One Half. _

Before I even looked at the package or the creation that George described, I opened the smaller envelope which had been in with the first.

_Hermione,_

_As Mr. Weasley has no doubt rattled on about this box is a mechanism for transporting objects. Anything you need I will acquire for you, you need only ask._

_I have thought about the theories of you magical capabilities you included in your last letter. Unfortunately, many potions that are considered elementary by Wizarding standards will likely be out of your grasp. I have included a list of potion ingredients that should work with your magic. I have also included a stocked potions kit by means of the contraption. A book which has been in my family for as long as we have had a name is yours. The potions in that tomb will work for you. I wish you luck on finding more as well. _

_S.S._

The choice to wait for the object to resize itself before I responded seemed to be the logical one. I turned to Mercury as I waited, "I'm sure you hated the timing devise they must have placed on your last trip. Thank you for being so pleasant, regardless of the spells they forced on you." The owl hooted, clearly agreeing that it had not been a pleasant experience for the familiar. I stroke the owl's head and fed him an owl treat from the batch George had sent previously. As Mercury snaked I unwrapped the plain brown paper and set the small cabinet looking thing onto the ground and gave it some room.

We waited together, interested in what the wooden thing would do when the hour was up. The thing grew greatly in size. The maple, polished wood expanded until it stood at three feet. The bulk of the height housed a cabinet and the top opened to a three inch deep area. The top, I concluded, was for letters and the cabinet would transport packages, the whole thing was genius even with it's simple design.

"Well Mercury, it might take me some time to sort through this. Would you like to fly around for a while or hunt and come back in a few hours?" Mercury hooted and took off.

I cracked my knuckles briefly before taking the three packages out of the bottom cabinet. The first I opened and found a high end potion storage unit. This, like the beaded purse I once carried, held more than it appeared to. Stored in this shoebox sized, engraved and decretive box, was an entire supply of potion ingredients. With care I placed the box on one of my higher shelves.

Next to it I placed the aged volume which Severus had gifted me. He wouldn't take it back, trying would have been insulting. He had made a replica, he is too smart not to and when I would have preferred the replica, having him keep the original, he wanted things this way.

Sometimes, I wish that our strange might have happened relationship never developed. Had I been the normal teenager I could have been it never would have. I wasn't normal though. I might have lost normalcy back when I was eleven and opened that fated letter. Or perhaps when I placed that chain around my neck and started living trapped in a seemingly un-aging body as I doubled, tripled and added who knows how much time onto the life I've lived. Now I really would be living with an un-aging body and it seems that Severus would be living with more regret and with some self developed unjustified sense of obligation.

Trying not to dwell, I opened the other package. This one was from Charlie, this one would make me sad too. George had told me that it was a box made of dragon bone. This at least gave me the ability to brace myself, to at least know what to expect in some regard..

The box was oval-shaped, and made solely of dragon bone. Its colors varied from off-white to brown, with caramels and beiges melding in between. Across the top was a unique pattern – not intricate, but simple; a circle, and off it extending several lines, and the points of the lines furthest away from the center circle also had smaller circles. The latch on the box was delicate, and looked to be made of bronze, and the bottom of the box was flat, so as to offer a certain amount of stability when placed on a level surface.

Inside, there was a letter, I am starting to dislike letters. They tend to make me guilty and incredibly sad. This couldn't and wouldn't stop me from reading the last words I would receive from him.

_Hermione,_

_I bought this box on a whim. As you know, when one of our dragons die the harvesters have to come in and make sure not a bit of the beast goes to waste. Here, we consider this a way of honoring the dragon.. Chilo was a bold and fiery Pitmeed Dragon. He was one of the better ones, though you'd never know it from the look of him. I think you would have enjoyed seeing him. Sometimes, the fire from the dragons here remind me of that fire living in you. _

_About the box, the harvester had gotten to talking when we had a pint and went on about this box. Somehow in this whole transition I bought the thing off of him. In the morning it was waiting on my desk and I was thinking about you. _

_As it turns out, the bone that this particular box had come from the very first dragon I had ever worked with, Peter. Peter also happens to be the only other dragon we've lost since I've come here. I like the thought that he's still around in a way. Dragon bone serves it's mistress and I like the thought of Peter watching out for what is yours. This box will hold your secrets and will only open to your touch. I used a hair brush of yours that had mingled with my suitcase for a while to key it to you. Technically, the box might open for me, but you have my word as a wizard to never break your trust. _

_I am hoping to give this to you for your birthday. However, I am not sure of anything anymore and I'm not completely sure that I will be around then. In case I am not, my fellow dragon keepers know where the box should be headed. I hope you don't mind, but when we agree to keep things between us secret in England, here in Romania I am quite fond of talking about you._

_If you are reading this letter then I have passed. Otherwise, I would have burned this letter and just given you the box. I hope you are well, I hope you are not mourning and I hope that you know I love you. _

_Even in death, Charlie. _

I was shaking, I wasn't even sure that I still had the ability to involuntarily shake but I was. I couldn't think of this, I left the letter on my bed and went for a run. Yes, a run would do me good. Some hunting, yes, that too might help.


End file.
